Surviving You
by Sketty24
Summary: Storm and Logan fly out in response to an urgent call from Moira MacTaggert, but are thousands of miles off course from Scotland when they perform an emergency landing. Stranded and their signals mysteriously overridden, just where are they? Post X3
1. The One With An Emergency Landing

**SURVIVING YOU**

**Chapter 1**

A silver jet raced forward through the sparse clouds, swiftly zooming ahead across the stretch of crystalline blue ocean below. The aircraft was very similar to that of the X-Men's large Blackbird, but it was noticeably shorter, though still held sizeable walking space behind the pilot seats. The X-Men had to rely on their smaller aircraft since the destruction of their X-Jet at Alcatraz, but Beast was redesigning the aircraft only a few weeks after their return.

Oddly enough, the mansion had fallen into a rather peaceful state even after the horrendous events the X-Men had been put through. Even with the losses painful, they were continuing on. The largest bereavement was most definitely Professor Xavier, his death throwing the mansion into initial disarray – so much so the school was almost closed. But Storm took on the head position with courage and promised aid from the rest of the X-Men.

It had only been yesterday that Moira MacTaggert, a doctor and a close friend of Charles Xavier had contacted the mansion with the urgent request that they came to Muir Island, just off the coast of Scotland. Not needing all the X-Men for the trip, Storm had chosen Logan to accompany her, leaving the capable Beast in charge during her absence. Whilst at first, Logan had turned down the invitation, a few words of encouragement from Storm, and the request that she didn't wish to travel alone caused him to relent.

And now they were sat in the smaller jet, flying off towards their destination. Logan glanced down at the passing sea below them with a curious eye. "Where are we?" he asked, glancing over to Storm who was piloting the jet.

Storm looked over to him at his question. "Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean."

"Huh," replied Logan. "It feels like we've been passing over this water for hours."

"Well we should be on track.." she paused, checking the console. "Scott normally did the navigating instructions. I've never flown us overseas before."

Logan eyed her at her words, then looking out ahead, "Didn't you say the flight would be less than three hours?"

"Yes, we should be approaching Ireland now," she said as she pressed the screen of the console to scan their radius. "Hm.."

"What?"

"There's no nearby land.."

Logan groaned quietly to himself, placing his thumb and forefinger against his eyes, "We're lost, ain't we?"

"No, we're not lost," Storm quickly replied in defence. "I'm just not a hundred percent sure where we are.. the map isn't showing anything at all. It's like we're nowhere. Maybe the signal is playing up?"

"Storm, we've been flying for four hours. We gotta be a thousand miles off course."

"We must land," she quickly said, panic sounding in her voice for the first time. "We're running low on fuel."

"Land? Storm, there ain't nowhere!" Logan exclaimed and he gestured ahead of them down at the sparkling blue ocean.

Storm stared out of the window, her face taking on a determined expression as her hands gripped tighter on the steering controls.

"What we gonna do?"

"We need to land the jet," she replied quickly, eyes firmly staring ahead.

Logan watched her in silence, eventually turning his gaze to the windscreen. "Ok.." This trip was turning out to be rather surprising. He didn't like surprises.

After short while of silent flying, Storm abruptly spoke up, "There! Up ahead!"

Logan followed her gaze to spot a blur of colour across the sea, the green of the foliage standing out against the cerulean waters. The closer the jet raced towards it, more of the island could be identified. It was mainly covered in lush green foliage, though the remainder of the island was blocked from view by rocky-looking mountains. Ivory beaches skirted a pristine coastline, completing the appearance of what looked very much a sun-soaked paradise land. "We're gonna have to land here?"

"Logan, we have no choice. We'll land and try to contact Hank." Storm directed the controls as she began to descend the aircraft from the skies, coming upon the island, which zoomed closer. She began slowing as the island came upon them, concentrating as she neared the beach. Logan leant forward in his seat to observe the coastline as they lowered upon it. A few minutes later, due to Storm's careful handling, the jet touched down upon the sandy beaches.

Storm sat back with a low sigh, staring out at the deserted beach ahead of her.

"This looks nothin' like Scotland," grumbled Logan. "How the hell did we get here?"

"I've no idea," sighed Storm as she unbuckled her seatbelt and leant back over the console. "I don't understand it. The navigational system is showing up nothing. It must have led us in the wrong direction."

"How are we gonna get off here?"

"Logan! I don't know!" cried Storm, her panic quickly increasing as she stared across to him. "Please, stop asking me questions."

Frowning, Logan unfastened his seatbelt, "Hey, I'm sorry, all right? I just don't like the situation, this island ain't givin' off any good vibes. We've just landed in the middle of nowhere, we've got no signal and no idea where we are."

"I know," she sighed softly, swivelling in her silver pilot seat to move away from the controls. "We can't even use the main transmitter to contact the mansion. Without Charles.. Cerebro can't be used," she closed her eyes in sadness to the recollection of Charles's death before she pushed on ahead, walking across the jet. "We'll have to use the radio, and hope Hank is in the lab."

Logan rotated round in his own seat, but didn't stand. "Hope?" he repeated, sounding cautious. "Seeing the luck we've had so far – "

"Don't say it – "

" – things can't get any worse."

Storm span round with stern eyes, "You said it!" she exclaimed, her hands on her hips.

Logan smirked at her, "Aw, c'mon, y'don't believe in karma an' all that do you?"

"I'm swinging neither way, but I don't see the sense in pushing our luck." She turned away from him, running a hand through her short white hair with a sigh. "Now, where do we keep the radio in here?" She glanced around the smaller jet, before she headed over to the wall and extended a compartment in which she plucked out their only radio. "Come on," she said as she turned to the door and opened it. Logan looked hesitant, but pushed to his feet and followed her down the short steps onto the beach.

He squinted at the bright light, a hand shielding his eyes as he observed the jungle-like terrain that formed after the strip of beach terrain. His eyes trailed upwards to the clear blue sky that beat down a scorching sunshine.

"Don't go too far," Storm called as Logan began wandering off. He made an incoherent noise in response as he moved across the sand, idly trudging towards the water's edge. It was noticeably warm, and Logan was relieved they had gone casual for the trip. He didn't think leather and hot climates would go together very well.

Behind him, outside the jet, Storm was twisting dials on the radio, attempting to find a signal, her eyes stared at the screen anxiously which showed the image of a pulsating beacon and the words: _'Locating wavelength' _

She anxiously licked across her lower lip as she waited, becoming increasingly concerned the longer it took. The bars at the right side of the colour screen were struggling to gain more than two levels. Eventually, the message on screen changed: _'System override'._

"What?" she said to it in disbelief. Her words summoned Logan's attention, who trudged back up the beach towards her.

"What's up?"

Storm shook her head slowly as she stared at it, "It can't get a signal. There's something overriding it."

"What does that mean?" asked Logan with a frown.

Storm slowly looked up to him, "There's something else on this island with a stronger signal, and it's blocking ours out."

"And that's the only communication we've got?"

"Yes.."

Logan turned away from her with a small growl, a hand running through his untamed hair agitatedly. "Damnit! Now we're stuck on this godforsaken spit of land!"

Storm turned off the radio in silence, but continued to stare at it. "Look, I'll save the batteries for now. There's no point in wasting it when we can't get a signal. We might have to try higher ground."

Logan slowly glanced over his shoulder at her, "Didn't the navigation system on the jet fail to get a signal?"

"Yes," replied Storm as she looked up at him, sliding the rectangular radio onto the belt of her dark jeans via the designated clip. She hesitated before adding, "It could be the same problem."

"And we had high ground in the air."

Storm sighed as she rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. The temperature was uncomfortably hot, and not the best conditions for thinking. "It could be a fluke. I suggest we keep trying every hour to see if there's any change in the strength of the output. We shouldn't try more often than that or the batteries could run down."

Logan fully turned his body to face her, his hands up behind his head as he scrutinised her. "Meanwhile, we're stranded?"

"We're stranded.." she confirmed in a hollow whisper.

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This story is quite different to any of the others I have going currently! If you're familar with me, or a new reader, please leave a review! Do you find the prospect interesting? I'd love to hear your views. :) (And yes, there is a POTC reference!)


	2. The One With Stashed Alcohol

**Chapter 2**

The clear nighttime sky was sprinkled with gleaming stars that lay scattered across the infinite heavens. The dark waters slowly crawled upon the edge of the beach, before retreating with the gentle crash of the rolling waves. Logan was sat on the golden shore, eyes watching the repetitive coming and going of the sea. The air still held a stifling temperature, so much so Logan had had to remove his leather jacket and completely unbutton the burgundy shirt he wore beneath. His familiar ribbed vest was plainly on view, but he didn't care. With his denim cladded legs bent in front of him, and elbows resting upon his parted knees, Logan was quite comfortable.

Exiting from the jet, Storm made her way across the rippling sand to join Logan's side. She sat down with a quiet sigh, holding the radio in her hand. "Still nothin'?" Logan asked as he turned his head towards her.

"No," Storm muttered, placing the device on the ground between them. She absently brushed the sand from her fingers on the thigh of her dark jeans. "It's exactly the same as before. There's got to be something else on this island."

"What, that has a satellite signal? I doubt it Storm, it looked pretty wild from up in the air."

Storm sighed once more, raking her short ivory hair back from her brow in agitation. "What are we going to do?"

Watching her, Logan spoke reassuringly, "Hey, we'll be all right. Someone's gotta find us. A passing ship or a plane or somethin'. Besides, it ain't that bad.. take a look around."

Storm's eyes trailed the sparkling waters, up the undisturbed beach and on towards the thickly lush jungle. Indeed, it was an exquisite piece of paradise one could only dream about. "You're right, it is beautiful," admitted Storm, looking back over to him. "But that doesn't solve our problems. How do we eat? Drink?"

"We've got supplies on the plane, ain't we?"

"Yes, perhaps lasting us a week. What if we're here longer than a week?"

Logan glanced behind him at the shadowy jungle terrain, "We're in the wild now, Storm. We can find things. We'll take a look inland tomorrow. We need to know our area well, anyway."

Nodding slowly, Storm settled to gazing out at the dark horizon where the star strewn sky met the reflective ocean. The pair sat in a comfortable silence, broken a short while later by Storm releasing a soft yawn. Her hand delicately covered her parted lips, "Oh, excuse me."

"Go and get some sleep," Logan suggested as he glanced over to her.

Fanning herself absently with a hand, Storm proceeded to unbutton the top of her black lace blouse in a bid to cool herself down. "I will do soon," she replied with a faint smile. "But I'm in no rush."

Feeling his eyes stray unwillingly down the parted neck of her shirt, Logan quickly dragged his gaze back upwards onto her face. "Well, if you need a nightcap.." he said softly, watching her curious expression. "Wait here," he said unnecessarily as he got to his feet, jogging off towards the plane. A few minutes later he returned with two bottles of beer. Sitting himself back down, he slipped one into her lap.

Surprised, Storm picked up the cool bottle, staring down at the damp label. "You brought alcohol onboard?" she asked, her tone a little reprimanding.

"Yeah. I wasn't sure what the beer was like in Scotland. I didn't want to be stuck without a good drink for weeks." Logan told her with a shrug, proceeding to uncap his beer bottle before he tilted his head back to take a great swallow of the alcohol.

Silently, Storm turned her eyes upon him, watching the man heartily drink back the liquid. The thick column of his neck lay exposed as he repeatedly consumed the beer. With a slight grimace upon her expression, Storm stared back down at the bottle. She wasn't a drinker, not in any form. In fact, she disliked Logan having his own stash in the mansion when there were children around. However, she didn't doubt the security, for Logan was fiercely protective of his beer. Sighing a little, she removed the cap from the bottle, peering down at it. Her nimble fingers delicately clasped the neck of the bottle as she cautiously brought it to her lips and took a small sip.

Being heavily thirsty due to the hot temperatures, she couldn't help but take pleasure in the cold liquid as it trickled down her throat. Straightening her head, she glanced across to Logan who was watching her with an amused smirk.

"What?" she asked, pursing her lips.

"Nothin'," he said, but his expression showing it all.

About to respond, Storm gave an unexpected hiccup. Her fingers flew to her lips at the lack of decency, "I'm sorry," she said gingerly.

Logan looked away with a grin, his eyes finding the horizon once more. Storm tried another drink from her bottle, this one a little bigger. She swallowed it steadily, trying to not encourage any more uncontrollable body functions.

"Still got no idea why you picked me to come to Scotland with you," Logan eventually muttered, his bottle hovering between his parted legs as his arm rested on his bent knee. "Why not Beast?"

"Why, regretting coming?" asked Storm teasingly with a small smile.

Logan actually chuckled as he watched her. "A little. But I bet Beast would have joined you without questionin', but y'know.. you had to convince me. Why didn't you just take the easy route?"

"Well, sometimes I like a little bit of a challenge, Logan. I don't always prefer the simplest route."

An eyebrow rose at the response, Logan regarding her with interest. "Oh, right," he murmured, then adding, "I'm a challenge, am I?"

"Oh, don't be so modest, Logan. You know you are. Don't you remember way back when we met, and you were arguing with me about Magneto." At Logan's smile of recollection, she continued, "I knew I'd found someone who wasn't afraid to speak their views like me."

"You sayin' we're alike?"

Considering this, Storm shrugged her shoulders, "Perhaps. On a few levels." Accepting this answer with an absent nod of his head, Logan went back to his beer, drinking it down heavily. Watching him, Storm lifted her bottle once more, taking another mouthful. Swallowing it down, she leant over to him, offering him the bottle. "You finish it," she asked of him quietly, beginning to stand to her feet.

Without a word, Logan took it from her, slowly looking up at her rising form. Storm spent a moment dusting the sand from her rear before she smiled at him. "Good night, Logan," she said, setting off across the beach to return to the jet.

"Yeah, see you," he murmured quietly as he watched her leave. As she disappeared up the small ramp of the plane, Logan turned his head back to face the ocean, remaining out under the dark sky as he finish the two beers he held in a contemplative silence.

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Thank you for reading this chapter! Please leave a review. 


	3. The One With Lacy Unmentionables

**Chapter 3**

With a quiet groan, Logan opened his eyes blearily at the hot blinding light that shone into his face. He lifted a hand to try and block out the brightness, peering over to see that the door of their aircraft had opened and Storm had exited out onto the beach. He sat up slowly, having been sleeping on top of his sleeping bag as opposed to in it. Pushing to his feet, he made his way outside to see Storm stood a short distance away drinking from a water bottle. Storm lowered the bottle from her lips, looking over her shoulder as she heard Logan's movement. "Oh, good morning," she said, a pleasant smile greeting him.

"Hey," Logan muttered, running a hand through his hair absently. He slowly looked round the sunlit beach, which glowed with the same heat as yesterday. Sparkling blue waters crashed up the shore, the waves offering a serene background noise.

"Are we heading into the jungle today?" asked Storm as she turned to face him, offering him the plastic bottle.

Accepting the water, Logan quickly swallowed back a satisfying amount before replacing the cap. "Yeah, sure. We ought to take backpacks with us though, take water and food, just in case we're out longer than we hoped."

"I wonder if I've got any suitable clothing.." Storm asked as she walked back into the aircraft and began pulling out the suitcase she had brought. Logan followed her in, placing the bottled water aside as he moved over to her. Storm kneeled down on the metal floor of the jet, opening her suitcase and beginning to search through the items she had brought. Logan stood at her shoulder, watching this process. He quickly averted his eyes when he saw several lacy unmentionables crop up. He bit back a remark, resulting in him with a bitter grimace on his face like he had tried to swallow a lemon.

Turning away, Logan fetched rucksacks from the back of the jet where their supplies were kept and dropped one down by Storm for her to pack. He moved over to his kitbag that he had brought, unzipping it and rummaging inside. Clinking sounded from the many bottles of beer he had secretly stashed onboard, the noise earning him a cautious eye from Storm before she continued to select suitable items from her case and stuff them in her bag.

Logan began packing his rucksack with beer bottles, earning him a meaningful, "_Hem-hem_," cough from Storm. Logan paused, glancing over to her with the best 'what?' look he could muster. But Storm wasn't buying it. "If we're packing liquid, we're packing water," said Storm pointedly.

"Aw, c'mon Storm, I'm takin' a couple, that's all."

Storm pursed her lips before softly relenting, "Fine. But only a few."

Logan grinned toothily at her before he proceeded to slip some more of his precious beer bottles into his bag. Storm set off to gather the rest of their bottled water and packaged food, filling up the rest of her rucksack with the essential items. She carried the rest to Logan, putting them in his rucksack. Logan nodded at this, but it didn't stop him from topping up the now bulging rucksack with a few packets of cigars.

Shaking her head to herself, Storm stood to her feet. "If you'll just give me a moment.." she said softly. Looking up as he straightened to his feet, Logan watched her curiously. Blinking a little, Storm picked up a vest top from her suitcase, gesturing it at him as she explained, "I'm going to put this on."

"Oh, right," said Logan quickly, nodding as he threw his rucksack up against his back, arms looping through it. "Sure," he swiftly exited the aircraft to stride out across the beach in wait.

Turning back to her suitcase, Storm unbuttoned the black lace blouse she wore, which with its long sleeves wasn't all that ideal for the hot climate. She quickly pulled the white vest top over her head, smoothening the hem over her hips before she looked at the tips of her heeled boots pointing out of her jean bottoms. "Logan?" she called, summoning a hesitant looking figure back inside. Looking round at him, Storm smiled, "Do you have any spare boots?"

"Might do," said Logan vaguely with a small grin, moving over to his kit bag and pulling out a pair of sturdy boots like he usually wore. He handed them to her, "Might be a bit big. Do them up tight."

Storm nodded her head in agreement as she slipped off her heeled boots to put Logan's pair on instead. Fastening them up tight like he suggested, Storm stood to her feet, pulling her rucksack on her back. "Right then. Are we ready?"

Turning towards the opened jet door, Logan made his way out. "Yep, c'mon." The pair shut the aircraft door together before proceeding across the beach, both gazing at their surroundings. The edge of the jungle came upon them, the soft rustle of foliage sounding under their feet as they stepped off the scorching beach and into the shadowy realms of the jungle.

Logan took the lead, guiding them along an invisible track, winding around the dense plant life that got thicker and larger the further they travelled. The sun above became dimmer, blocked by the tall trees, which offered a relief to the burning necks of the mutants. Their boots stomped down on the plants below, twigs cracking and leaves rustling wherever they trod. After a short while, Logan stopped, lifting a hand to gesture silence from Storm. Coming up behind him, Storm whispered softly, "What is it?"

"I can hear running water," Logan replied with a grin. "Let's go take a look." And with that he proceeded forward, leaping over a fallen log and pursuing onwards. Storm lightly climbed over it, hurrying to close the distance between her and Logan as they continued through the lush jungle terrain. Logan speeded up a little as he got closer, the rush of falling water now clearly heard by both of them. He changed direction, proceeding forth and brushing aside large fern leaves as he came upon a clearing through the trees.

Coming up alongside him, Storm stared out at the area they had arrived to. A dirt flooring surrounded a running stream, continually flowing with the rushing waterfall that fell from a rocky cliff face. Pursuing forward, Storm looked around the area with a smile, laughing softly as she gazed back across to Logan. Logan stepped out towards her, looking up at the trees that arched over the setting. "There's some ripe fruit here," he said, pointing up at a nearby tree.

"Want me to go up and grab it?"

"Sure, we can take it back to the beach," nodded Logan, watching as Storm walked to the foot of the tree. With her back to him, he didn't see her eyes cloud over to a shocking ivory. He glanced about him curiously as a breeze rustled through the once still humid air. Storm spread her arms gracefully by each side of her as she flew upwards to the overhanging bough of the tree. Once there, she gently straddled herself over the branch, leaning her torso across the rough surface to keep herself safely in the tree. She was rather high above ground, and Logan slowly walked to the foot of the tree, gazing up at her. "Y'ok?"

"I'm fine," she called down, leaning over to the spherical fruits, which hung from their leafy stems She plucked them free, slipping them into her bag one by one. Satisfied with her answer, Logan proceeded to gather fallen fruit from the jungle floor, providing it hadn't got damaged.

Slipping her fifth fruit into her bag, Storm sat there debating whether to carry her water bottle back to the beach in order to fit more food into her bag when she heard a rustle from the forest floor. She glanced down to see Logan crouched down gathering the fruit from the tree's base. Frowning, she looked ahead at the jungle terrain, seeing the ground foliage rustle violently. A sudden creature darted out of the leafy bushes, running towards Logan's unguarded back.

"Logan!"

Logan's head snapped up to see Storm's panicked features before he spun round with a growl, claws ripping from his knuckles and spearing into the creature heavily to cause warm blood to gush over his wrist. Straightening, he threw the animal from his claws, sheathing them into his forearm slowly.

Smirking to himself, he looked back up to her, "How about some roasted meat?"

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Good one, Logan! Hehe, review!


	4. The One With An Explosion

**Chapter 4**

The soft sounds of a crackling fire filled the dark beach, the golden light flickering as sparks were spitted up into the star strewn sky. A make-shift spit had been constructed using broken branches. The animal Logan had killed was in fact a boar, and having since been skinned by Logan (out of the eyes of Storm, after she had vehemently protested to him doing it in front of her,) it was being cooked rotisserie style on top of the open fire.

Logan was sat crossed legged in front of the fire, perfectly still, with his eyes watching the flickering flames. Across from him, Storm was sat on her leather jacket, eyes on the distant shoreline as it crashed with the rhythmical sounds of the waves. The pair had fallen into a comfortable silence as they waited for the meat to cook. Logan was in charge of testing if it was fully cooked through, for he seemed to have more experience in this 'back to basics' lifestyle. After a few moments, he passed Storm some large chunks of meat, which Storm hurriedly took in her fingers.

Being a relatively sophisticated woman, Storm had not eaten without proper cutlery for a long time, and whilst her childhood in Africa had never been forgotten, she had become taking some small things for granted. Carefully studying the piece of meat that was clasped between her manicured fingernails, Storm leant forward to take a bite, being a polite as she could about the whole affair. Logan, on the other hand, had no qualms about eating with his fingers and was promptly eating large chunks easily with a glint of predatory satisfaction in his eyes.

It didn't take long for Storm to throw caution to the wind and tuck in with a little more ardour. After all, she was hungry, and she knew Logan hardly cared about high standards. If anything, he encouraged her to loosen up a little.

"So, what we gonna do next?" asked Logan between mouthfuls, absently tearing off some more meat.

Storm glanced towards him, watching his form as it was distorted through the orange flames of the fire. "We need to get to high ground and try the radio."

Looking round towards the jungle, Logan watched the large precipitous terrain rise up behind the sea of the tropical trees. "You ain't gonna get much higher than that."

Turning her head to look at the grassy mountain side, Storm replied, "Think we could climb it?"

"The hills surroundin' it should be fine, that might be high enough. When we gonna go, tomorrow?"

Helping herself to some more meat, Storm gave a nod of confirmation. "Tomorrow."

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The next morning, Logan woke first, leaving Storm as she lay curled up comfortably in her sleeping bag on the jet floor. He strode out onto the beach, stretching his arms to up the dazzling blue sky. He glanced at his watch, the time still in New York's setting, displaying 1.00 in the morning. He grunted quietly as he lowered his arm. That wasn't ever going to be much use around here. Proceeding to walk on across the sand, he travelled quietly, eyes scanning the blue ocean as it slowly frothed on the edge of the beach.

He didn't have very high hopes for the radio connecting. Maybe he was a pessimist, or maybe he was just trying to face facts. For some reason, the knowledge they could be stuck on this island didn't seem to worry him as much as it should. There was only one person he would have wanted to go back for, and that was Rogue. But since she had had the cure, for all he knew she could have left the mansion. With Charles and Jean gone, the only person left he had any care for was Storm, and she was here with him. Somehow, he didn't find himself missing the mansion, not when he was here, surrounded by nature and the calming sounds that came with it.

Lately the mansion had been full of grief directly related to the three memorials that now stood in the grounds of the school. It was suffocating to someone like Logan, who may have put up a stubborn front when invited on this trip with Storm, but in reality, he was thankful. He still was.

Now a good distance away from the plane, Logan sat down on the beach, out of sight from the aircraft and now completely surrounded by nature. He found it healing, ironically enough. But all this didn't mean he would refrain from finding their escape from the island, nor mean that he would sabotage all attempts. He would try, but accept his fate if it came to it. After all, he'd had worse happen to him.

Just then, curiously, Logan heard a disturbance in the air, but the peacefulness he had just settled into was abruptly shattered only moments later as the entire air around him shook with a rocketing explosion. Wincing at the loud abuse to his sensitive hearing, Logan threw himself upright, training the direction of sound to be at the jet. Immediately he felt his chest tighten with panic. Bursting into a run, he darted across the white sand, following his footprints back around the beach and towards the jet, which still remained out of sight. The closer he got, the stronger came the bitter stench of burning material, with smoke beginning to cloud his vision. He hurtled around the edge of trees to see that where the jet had once stood was nothing but a flaming blackened heap.

His gut writhed uncomfortably as he sprinted towards the ruined aircraft, coughing as the thick heaving smoke blew into his face. "Storm!" he bellowed at the inferno, advancing dangerously close to the roaring flames. He gasped as a gust of wind flew the fire into his face, and he automatically shielded his face with his forearm. Panting, he stared over at the wreckage, fumes sending him coughing once more. "Storm!" he cried again, fearing the worse.

Suddenly, all his disbanded worries of their predicament flew back in full force, combined with the shocking possibility that Storm could be dead. He didn't even ponder on how or why the jet was now a blazing inferno, he just continued to search for the woman. He had left her sleeping, the likelihood of her death frighteningly high. Despite the burns to his arms and face, Logan began shoving apart the wreckage, brushing aside charred remains of their remaining personal items. He was convinced he would find her dead or dying, and any likelihood of being treated was nil on this island.

Forcing back a lump of blackened metal, he suddenly spotted the remains of Storm's black blouse, the one she had worn to sleep. The mangled aircraft gave a soft groan. Logan could only glance up to see the wing of the jet crash down upon him. With a shout he threw himself backwards, sporting a heavily bleeding gash across his forehead. "Shit," he muttered under his breath as he heavily landed on his back in the sand, a good number of feet away from the wreckage. He lowered his head to the sand, his eyes closing as he waited for his burnt skin to heal, and the wound to close up. The heavy smoke wafted across his face, and he raggedly coughed and choked on the thick fumes. He wanted to move but couldn't, and brought his forearm to his face with a groan.

"Logan!"

Logan faltered. Was he hearing things? He never normally doubted his senses. Pulling his arm from his face, he peered blearily into the smoky air. Storm's face suddenly swam into view above him, her knees hitting his side as she threw herself down into the sand with concern covering her expression. "Logan!" she cried again, sweeping her fringe out of her face as she then proceeded to try and help him, mistaking his glazed look for serious injury. She delicately swept his hair back out of his face and the almost closed gash, soon glancing over him.

"'Ro?" he said hoarsely as he stared at her.

"What happened?" she asked, leaning over him anxiously.

"I don't know," he muttered, then slowly sitting up, and reaching his feet with Storm joining him. He was staring at her, "I thought you were dead!" he suddenly said.

Storm watched him in return, "I thought you were!" she replied fretfully. "I came up the beach and I saw you on your back! I thought the explosion had hit you."

"I left you sleepin'.." Logan continued, as though still trying to comprehend what was going on.

Storm laughed weakly, "You woke me up on the way out. I went down to the sea to wash."

Looking back towards the burning aircraft Logan nodded his head slowly. "Well, we're both safe, we should clear the area.."

"I can take care of that," said Storm as she turned towards the flames and extended her hands. Once more her eyes clouded over with ivory as a thick mist of moisture descended upon the flames and doused the wreckage into a charred black heap. Looking back towards Logan, Storm shook her head, "I've no idea what could have caused the explosion," she said as her eyes returned the normal. "There was nothing faulty before take-off."

"No," grunted Logan quietly as he watched the destroyed aircraft. "It didn't combust."

"What do you mean?"

Folding his arms, Logan looked back towards her. "It was fired at with a weapon."

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Thank you for reading this chapter! Please leave a review.


	5. The One With A Disaster

**Chapter 5**

"What are you doing?" asked Storm as she watched Logan grab his rucksack from where he had left it by the campfire and ease onto his back. He began walking away, but slowly glanced round at her, gaze momentarily happening upon the blackened wreck of the jet.

"We gotta get off the beach," he said simply. "It's not safe here anymore. Whoever attacked us clearly wanted us dead."

Storm adjusted the straps of her bag on her shoulders before she followed after him. "How do we know it's any safer in the jungle?" she asked, moving to his side.

Turning, Logan continued his path into the jungle. "We're hidden," he replied. "And safer from air strikes."

Storm watched Logan as he walked on ahead, thoughts upon his words. Air strikes? It was harrowing to think someone had attacked them, when they were merely stranded on an island. Preferred contact would be rescue, not the complete opposite. Storm picked up her pace to match Logan's strides, the pair pursuing on through the thick leafy foliage that made up the tropical terrain. After a short while of walking, Storm noticed familiar scenery. She spoke up, her words softly issued under a heavier breathing rate. "Are we going back to the waterfall?"

"It's that or we try and find somewhere else. I don't think we should go wanderin' round here, though," muttered Logan as he walked; swiping large leafs out of his path as he strode along. "There's definitely somethin' funny about this place."

Continuing behind him, Storm caught the leaves that fell back after Logan pushed through and brushed them out of her way. "I don't understand. If someone can find us to attack us, why can't someone find us to rescue us?"

"It's localised," replied Logan, sounding bitter. He stepped out into the clearing they had visited only yesterday, which was still as beautiful as it was then. Sunlight streamed down from the top of the cliff, filtering between the high rising trees to cast spotlights of a dusty glow onto the small stream of running water that meandered off into the trees to a larger area of water further on.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Storm, easing her rucksack off her shoulders and absently stretching her tired arms.

Logan dumped his own rucksack down, absently running a hand through his damp hair before he glanced towards her. "There's somethin' else on this island. Someone doesn't want us here."

Storm snorted quietly to herself as she sat down on a patch of leafy grass, adjusting the straps of her vest top. "It's not like we wanted to come here."

There was a smirk on Logan's face at Storm's relatively sulky response. Like a teenager, both in tone of voice, and the expression on her face. "I know," he replied gently, sitting down nearby and pulling his rucksack over. He opened his bag, pulling out one of the bottled waters and taking a long hearty gulp of the liquid. Storm watched absently as he did this, a small smile on her face as the water was then offered to her. She tilted it gently to take a decent sized sip before standing it in the space between them.

"I wonder if it's connected," Storm then said thoughtfully.

"If what's connected?" asked Logan as he wiped across his mouth with the back of a hand.

Storm looked towards him again. "Us landing here, and then there something being strange about this place. We were thousands of miles off course; the jet only picked up on that too late. Something messed with our controls and sat readings; it still is, with the radio signal out. Maybe something.. pulled us here."

With a raised eyebrow, Logan studied her features. "What could do that, though? I thought the X-Jets couldn't be hacked into or overridden?"

"They can't," she replied with a small inclination of her head, a smile visible at Logan's recollection. Despite being unaware of his past, the man had an excellent memory. "They're undetectable on radar."

"So how could we have been pulled here? What signal could do that?"

"I don't know," admitted Storm with a sigh. "But in all my years of flying, I would never make such a huge geographical mistake. I did not fly us here, Logan, we were brought here."

Logan shifted uncomfortably, "I don't like the sound of that."

"Nor do I," said Storm quietly, glancing across towards the waterfall. The pair fell into a concerned silence, Logan's eyes scanning the surroundings and lifting to watch the mountainous terrain that stretched up beyond the cliff top that formed the rocky hill they had planned to ascend.

"We still got the radio? Did we lose it in the jet"

"I had it with me in my rucksack," replied Storm as she followed Logan's gaze up the mountain. "We'll try it today. Anything to help us get off this place." She looked back towards him, "We'll rest for a short while then set off."

* * *

As the midday sun shifted from it's scorching central point in the sky, the two mutants set off on their path to ascend the cliff face to begin their journey to gain higher ground up the mountain side. They had advantages in terms of their powers, Storm able to easily fly herself to the top of the cliff, where she waited with the radio held in a hand. Logan, too heavy to carry, had to scale the rocky face with his bare hands, with a reckless determination and speed that only came from the guarantee he could shrug off the drop should he fall. He reached the top with a grunt, bringing himself over the ledge and rolling onto the earth with a pant of breath.

Storm came by his side. "Are you aright?" she asked, though expected the oncoming response.

With a smirk, Logan pushed to his feet, rolling his shoulders and comfortably flexing the exposed muscles in his ribbed vest top. "Of course," he said before sauntering off ahead. Storm shook her head to herself with a smile. That was almost exactly what she had expected. She had only taken a step ahead to follow him up the sloping grassy hillside when the entire earth gave a horrendous shake, teamed with an almighty rumble that shook with the tremor of the ground. Logan whirled round to stare at Storm in alarm, his hands grabbing onto a nearby tree as everything shook so drastically.

Storm was surrounded by flat barren rock and had nothing to support her form as she collapsed onto her back harshly with a cry. The radio went flying out of her hands, hitting the dirt far behind her. The cliff edge creaked and groaned ominously, causing Storm to scuttle back from it to get out of danger. With an ear-splitting crack, a jagged line formed across the earth, weaving it's way through the rock from the edge of the cliff to the mountainside. The splitting earth drove apart with a rumbling groan, the ground still shaking.

"Storm!" cried Logan as his eyes followed the cracking earth as it drove a wedge besides the fallen radio. Storm quickly looked round to see it quivering towards the edge, creeping towards the plumes of dust and dirt that rose up from the vibrating earth. She lunched towards it with a gasp, her manicured fingernails digging into the dirt as it slipped off and plummeted into the drop. In her desperation, Storm threw herself forward again, staring down to see the radio caught by its leather strap on a broken tree root poking out of the dark earth. She leant down to grab it, her vision clouded with the dust. The ground behind her legs suddenly ripped upwards from the earth with an almighty roar of breaking rock, showering stones and dust over her as it tipped her forward and she fell into narrow crevice. She screamed as she plummeted, her fall abruptly halted as the separated rock became too narrow for her body to pass through.

She stared upwards, seeing the radio slip off the scrawny root. She caught it in her hands with a gasp, holding it tightly as she looped the strap around her neck securely. Around her, the entire earth came to a halt, leaving an eerie silence along with its stillness. It was then that the reality of the situation dawned in on her, and she felt her bruised, bleeding arms jammed against either rocky wall that sealed below her.

Panicked rose quickly and fiercely as she stared at the cramped conditions around her. Fear shot through her more swiftly than it had since they landed on the island. She gave a terrified cry, broken by erratic dry sobs as her nails clung onto the earthy walls in pure terror.

In desperation for aid, she cried out, calling the only ally she had with her. "Logan!"

* * *

If you've read the comics, and/or researched Storm's background, you'll know her predicament! (Hint: It's a phobia!)


	6. The One With Not Enough Happy Hugs

**Chapter 6**

At the cry for help, Logan had quickly run over to the cracked ravine, stopping at the edge to stare down at Storm's lodged state. He lowered down upon his knees, leaning over. He testingly waved his hand into the gap, but she was still several feet below his flailing fingertips. "You're too far to reach!" he called down to her. "Can't you fly out?"

"No!" she cried in return, the panic clear in her voice. "Logan, get me out, please."

Frowning, Logan sat there, thinking for a moment over their predicament. An idea then came, "Here," he dragged his vest top over his head, abruptly winding it into a slim coil and tossing one end down towards her. It gave him the extra length needed to complete the distance, and Storm grabbed onto the end with a shaky hand. "Climb up," Logan then instructed, holding the material tightly. But Storm didn't seem to be able to have the ability to move, frozen in her fear, clinging so tightly to the vest like it was her only possible lifeline. "Climb up!" Logan repeated, completely clueless as to how the weather witch had suddenly turned into a nervous wreck. Storm was a brave woman, a few scratches and a tumble shouldn't stop her, it fact, it didn't. He had seen her fight; he'd seen her put up with worse.

"I can't!" Her voice had almost risen to a scream, the skies around them giving a fierce crash of lightening.

Logan flinched at the harshness of the sound, realising he was never going to get her free without swift intervention. "Alright, I'll come and get you," he compromised. Storm slowly released the vest top, and Logan tugged it back and tossed it aside. Edging closer, he let his legs slip into the ravine before he lowered himself inside, the cuts and scratches caused by the sharp rock not bothering him as he dropped himself down besides Storm. The firm positioning of his boots on either wall stopping him from becoming jammed inside like Storm.

Storm clung onto Logan instead once he came close enough, surprising the man as she threw her arms around him and held onto him tightly. Logan glanced at her for a moment, before gathering she had a strong enough hold and he proceeded to scale the rock once more, the jagged, broken earth easy to climb in terms of places to rest footing and to hold onto. It wasn't long before he had reached the top, and carefully prised Storm from him.

It took a few attempts before Storm was convinced she was on solid ground to release her alarmingly tight hold, and she stepped back, glancing around her at the open area with noticeable relief on her face. Logan stood there watching her uncertainly, his head canted as his eyes scanned her.

She caught his gaze and managed a weak smile. "Thank you," she replied.

Logan moved to pick up his vest off the ground; straightening and continuing to watch her with a scrutiny that made Storm feel uneasy. "You're claustrophobic," he announced in his realisation.

"I have a certain discomfort in confined spaces, yes," she replied, lifting her head and giving him a challenging look.

"So you're claustrophobic," Logan said, nodding his head.

Storm glanced aside, "If that's what you want to call it," she murmured uncertainly.

Logan didn't press it any further, gathering she was uncomfortable at Logan finding a weakness in her proverbial armour. He lifted his vest top, soon shoving it back on over his torso. "You ok to carry on?" he asked, quickly moving the topic back to their mission.

"I'm fine," she replied, holding her ivory-haired head high as she turned and began making her way across the cracked earth to set off towards the gradually increasing grassy slope. The Storm he knew was back in place, replacing the ghost of a terrified woman he had been so shocked to see, trapped in the split chasm.

Logan soon picked up his pace to follow behind her, thinking over the recent event with curiosity. He had sometimes felt that Storm had an unrealistic intangibility, a mystery without the evidence. She felt too perfect, and in Logan's eyes, there was something unsettling about how easy she guarded herself and could control what people perceived. But now, to see under this barely noticeable shell she had formed intrigued him greatly. Granted, Storm was an enigma, but she had been one he wasn't too interested in working out. Yet now, he felt compelled to get under that skin and discover more about her, after all, if they were to be stuck together on this island, they needed conversation. Logan wasn't foolish though, if she had claustrophobia then it must have been caused by something severely distressing in her past, and he wasn't about to go sticking his fingers in sore wounds.

His mind bustling with a myriad of thoughts, Logan hadn't realised he had been following Storm, tracking her path with scent rather than sight from his unseeing eyes. He blinked as he settled his unfocused gaze upon Storm, the pair having ascended the hill quite rapidly. Ahead of him, Storm was passing through the trees, brushing aside branches carefully. She was moving gingerly, and Logan frowned to himself at not noticing this sooner. The toxic scent of blood was tainting the air. He pressed on forward, watching her arrive on an outcrop of rock, overlooking the distant terrain they had covered that morning, stretching out to the gold band of beach and the slowly frothing sea.

"You're hurt," he said in a low voice as he appeared at her shoulder, his words earning him a cocked eyebrow from Storm. Perhaps people expected him to be careless about other people's injuries when his own were barely irksome at the worst.

"I'll be fine," Storm replied with a bow of her magnificent head. Her gaze soon turned back out to look out upon the scenery, admiration in her eyes.

But Logan wasn't accepting this response. "Don't be so damn proud, 'Ro; your leg is bleedin'. You can't go through the bushes like that."

Looking down the leg of her dirtied jeans, Storm recognised the tears that marked her calf, where the sharp edges of rock had crudely torn through even the thick material of her dark denim. "Well, what do you propose we do? We're already late after our set back."

"Damn that," came the snorted response. "We ain't on a timetable. We can continue up tomorrow."

"I thought you wanted to get off this island," Storm said almost accusingly as she turned, her nimble hands settled at her hips as she gave him a stern look.

"I do," Logan argued in response. "But that don't mean you gotta limp 'round the jungle like that. For Christ's sake woman, you're probably in shock after all that shit that went off."

Logan thought he had hit close to the core, for Storm looked a little flustered and glanced aside, as though his words had only just made her realise the traumatic accident. "I'm sorry," she muttered, leaving Logan clueless to what she was apologising for until he saw her hand go to her eyes and squeeze at them. Holy shit, for the second time this day he'd seem a completely different side to Storm. This island was doing some funny stuff people. "I just want a hot bath," said the weather with tearfully, though he could hear the effort at which she tried to keep her emotions back. Logan still couldn't see her eyes for her hands, but he figured that today had overwhelmed her. He supposed that he shouldn't be surprised, after everything that had happened.

Uncomfortable, Logan kept his distance, "You wanna go back to camp?" He figured it had to be the best option, because he didn't think he could handle an emotional Storm for the rest of the trip up the mountainside.

"I want to go _home_," she replied. Logan sighed inwardly, she was in one of these impossible moods he'd experienced with females before, where they announce their unattainable desires in a tearful babble and insinuate your idiocy should you even suggest otherwise.

"You can't go home," said Logan awkwardly, wondering if that was the best thing to say to an emotional woman. "Not yet," he hastily added, sincerely not wanting to get on her bad side. Normally he wouldn't give a rat's ass what someone thought of him. But now, they really needed each other, and whilst Logan was a loner at heart, he'd never forgive himself for leaving Storm by herself in this place. He wondered when he had forged this silent promise to himself, the one in which he vowed he wouldn't leave her side whilst they were on this island. Had it been only minutes before, when he sickeningly thought he had seen the last of his companion?

Finally, Storm's hand lowered from her eyes, which only glistened as opposed to bearing tears. "I know," she whispered softly. There was a resolute nod, "Which is why we're going to get to higher ground and try this radio so we can contact Beast and get back to the mansion as soon as possible." She took hold of his arm in a bid to steer him round, but Logan froze, and Storm's grip couldn't budge the large man's form. She hesitated, looking up at him to wonder why on earth he was being so challenging when she noticed his gaze not on her, but in the distance over her head. "What are you -?"

"Get down!" She was cut off as Logan grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her into the deep undergrowth besides the outcrop. Storm gasped as she was dragged into bushes, shaking leaves from her face as she suddenly found herself jammed against a tree and Logan. He was low on his torso, his eyes staring intently out of the grass and out of the edge of the mountain.

The definite sound of helicopter blades whirred through the air, a sleek black vehicle cruising through the air across the trees near the beach. "What are you doing?" cried Storm, wholly scandalised that they were hiding from possible contact with the outside world. The woman then furiously scrambled to her feet, sick of Logan's paranoia and promptly stood back on the outcrop before Logan realised what she was doing. His eyes widened as she began waving her arms, making herself as noticeable as possible. She was also calling out, pleading to be heard despite the drone of the helicopter blades.

"Shit," Logan cursed as he threw himself to his feet, almost leaping against her as he grabbed her by the waist, securely holding her. The other hand flew to her lips, muffling her exclamations and proceeding profanities as he forcibly dragged her back into the foliage and forced her down into the bush once more. She fought to get back up, but Logan was now easily pinning her down. "No, stop it," he hissed urgently, "God, woman, are you even thinkin' 'bout what you doin'? Did you forget our jet got blown up by one of those damn things?"

He saw Storm's angered features relax in mortified realisation, and the following shame that she could have just beckoned an untimely fate. But with the awareness that the drone of the aircraft was coming closer, they both shared increasing expressions of apprehension. Storm knew Logan could hear it a lot better than her, and so she was going to follow his lead from here on.

As it grew louder, Storm was surprised when she felt Logan press down on top of her, improving their invisibility in the grass but not risking further movement of rustling the bushes by rolling off of her. Firmly jammed together, Storm had to admit she had been in more comfortable positions. Yet, she also had to admit that at the same time, the close contact was strangely comforting. It was times like this she wished the Professor or Jean was alive and with her, just so she could feel reassured by a gentle embrace. She had a feeling Logan wasn't going to be dishing out the happy hugs any time soon, though this position was surprisingly intimate, if accidentally so.

The helicopter pilot eventually dismissed its search as unnecessary and began flying away from their secluded spot in the undergrowth. It was then that Storm realised she had been watching Logan for quite a while as his face sat inches above hers, but his gaze fixated aside as he heavily concentrated on the retreating aircraft sounds.

Soon enough, without warning, Logan was up and off of her with a surprising grace, and was pulling her to her unstable feet. Feeling a tad winded by having the severe weight of adamantium crushing down upon her lungs and abdomen, Storm winced quietly, twisting her upper torso as if to try and ease the stiffness caused. "I'm so sorry," she eventually murmured, sweeping her hair out of her face.

"I thought you were sufferin' from shock, not knocked stupid," Logan muttered, fixing a glare on her. Perhaps he was behaving angrier than he felt, because one look on Storm's face proved she was not at all accepting of this jibe. She walked a firm path towards him, and for one fleeting moment Logan wondered if she was going to slap him when she cruised past him, her shoulder cuffing his hard enough for him to notice.

Logan stumbled back a step at the practical shove she had delivered, wondering whether he was pissed at her behaviour or amazed by her pride to give him shit even when it had probably caused her more pain. Now, she was stalking up that mountain with more determination than he had ever seen, bleeding leg and all. Great, now he had pushed her into a dangerous mood. The kind of one in which the bearer developed astounding pain tolerance, reckless fortitude and the strength of mind to do anything and everything, no matter who or what stood in their way.

And should you be unfortunate enough to try and defy such a person, it usually involved lightning bolts aimed somewhere Logan didn't like to discuss openly.

"Hey, 'Ro.. c'mon!" he called, remembering his promise to not allow them to become separated. God damnit, he couldn't give a flying shit if she stormed off after an argument in the middle of the mansion, but not here, not now. He quickly hurried on after her, ducking and diving around the trees to follow her bobbing ivory haired head as she scaled the mountain like a woman possessed. She was even beating every branch back like they had each done her a personal wrong, flinging back to swat Logan heavily in the face. He growled as he spat out a mouthful of twigs, his gaze turning gritty as he stomped on after her.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed that chapter, it was a little bit more a character development filler (with a side serving of drama!) Next chapter should have some interesting revelations of the island, so stayed tune! Also, want to watch the trailer I made for this fanficton? Go to Youtube and searching for Sketty24 (the video is called Surviving You.) Sorry I cannot link here, fanfiction net has nightmares about html.

**sketty24(dot)tergen(dot)net**


	7. The One With A Failure

**Chapter 7**

There was a slight tint of pink flooding the sky as the sun progressed towards the horizon, dark clouds advancing overhead with the tingling promise of damp in the air. It was turning cooler as the evening approached, but neither of the travelling mutants had any plans on stopping as they scaled the mountainside. Logan had been following Storm's path, which grew progressively slow and uncoordinated the more tired she got. The injury to her lower leg was also causing great discomfort and she limped on every odd step. At one point she stopped against a tree, panting softly from her climb, the wounded leg lifted gingerly from the grass.

Despite their earlier dispute, Logan came up besides Storm, fixing a concerned gaze on her. She glanced towards him, the pair silently coming to an agreement that they had climbed enough. Resting her weight against the tree, Storm dragged her backpack from her shoulders, unzipping it to retrieve the radio from the other mixed contents. Hefting the bag over one shoulder, Storm turned the radio on, the screen offering them small light on the shadowy proximity of the surrounding trees. Storm turned to face the mountainside, allowing the aerial to access the clear air across the drop towards the jungle and beach terrain.

The pulsating beacon appeared on the lit screen, the graphics repeating the reoccurring throb of output at the top of the beacon. The words: '_Locating Wavelength_' sat beneath this image, watched by the anxious pair as they waited and hoped that their trip up the mountainside had been worthwhile. The bars at the side of the screen were pushing up to a decent four levels. The image then changed to green text, flashing the words: _'Wavelength Found: Connecting..'_

Storm gave an excited gasp, whilst Logan managed to raise a genuine smile. The radio was brought to Storm's ear as she listened into the device. Their anticipation was cut short as the radio gave an offensive beep. Dragging it from her ear, '_System Override_' glared up at them in red lettering. "No!" exclaimed Storm in thorough exasperation, staring at the radio. She made an angry groan of frustration, dropping down to sit in the grass and turning off the radio, which was dumped unceremoniously besides her.

Logan lowered besides her with a gentle sigh, disappointment evident in his eyes as he watched the radio lie in the dirt. "Seems not even a decent height can help us."

In response, Storm shook her head; a hand pushing her white locks back from her grubby, clammy face. "That's it," she then muttered quietly. Logan looked towards her with a frown. "There's nothing else we can do. If the radio doesn't work, we have nothing to communicate with." A few drops of rain gently splashed down through the leaves of the tall boughs, summoning Storm's attention to the heavens.

"C'mon, 'Ro.. don't give up now," Logan muttered in response, their earlier argument seeming to have been forgotten about in light of the recent information.

"Oh?" she replied, turning her eyes back upon him. "Now is a time of hopelessness if there ever was one."

But Logan persevered, "We got further though, didn't we? We've still got battery life on that damn thing. We'll keep tryin' until we can try no more."

Storm pursed her lips slowly before she nodded her head once in response. "I suppose you're right," she admitted with a sigh. She glanced over her shoulder at the reddening sky that stretched out to meet the line of the sparkling ocean, the rainfall progressively becoming heavier.

Sensing her thoughts, Logan spoke up, "We should try and get back down the mountain before nightfall." Quickly agreeing, Storm carefully stood to her feet, using the tree to pull herself upward, gingerly trying her weight on her injured leg. Logan rose besides her, watching her cautiously as she took a testing step. "Can you manage it?"

"Yes," replied Storm quickly as she began walking down the slope, stuffing the radio back into her bag. Shrugging to himself, Logan continued on after her, the descent admittedly easier than the exhausting climb up the hill. His eyes were lazily trained on the back of Storm's bobbing head as she stepped on down the sloping earth. Right up until it plummeted from view and Logan jolted at the cry she gave out as she slipped on the wet, uneven earth. Her limping having skewered her balance, she crashed on down the vicious slope of the hillside and Logan could only stare in wide-eyed alarm as she tumbled from him, her hands desperately scrambling at the earth for some sort of leverage to stop her fall. He burst into a sprint after her, leaping from the mounds of earth as he tore down after her rolling body as it collapsed through the thick undergrowth. "Storm!" he called as he raced down the mountainside, his hands grabbing trees and steering himself sharply around them as he ran after her. Her world was spinning as she fell, grass thrown into her vision. She tried to dig her feet into the leaves to lodge herself into the ground, her tumble throwing mud and foliage into the air after her plummeting torso. Logan lost sight of her through the now torrential rainfall, and could only tear through the plant life as he followed her scent and disturbed track in the dirt.

Storm slammed up a halt against a large tree, the impact to her chest knocking the wind out of her and throwing her onto her back. She gasped as she landed on the hard earth, feeling her vision whirling behind her closed eyes. "Oh, my God.." she moaned under her breath, wishing her head would stop revolving in a thunderous thrum. If she hurt before, the pain had doubled from the numerous cuts and scrape littering her torso; twigs and branches having ripped through her thin vest top. Only her legs had survived the wounds thanks to the denim worn, but bruises were aplenty. She was also sure the impact to the tree had left her with a few fractured ribs. Carefully, she lifted her head from the dirt, daring to open her eyes and peer round blearily at the jungle surroundings. Heavy rain pattered onto her face, the sound filling her ears. Far behind her, she could just about hear the distinct rustle of Logan descending the slope after her. Storm gasped softly as she eased herself upright, her hands pressing to the ground to help herself upward.

But that's when she froze, feeling one hand on the soft earth, the other on something hard and cold. Bemused, she glanced down to her right hand, frowning as she saw the reflective surface of metal below her splayed, grimy fingers. Through the splattering raindrops, Storm stared at the metal sheet, her fingers pushing through the damp mud to clear some of the area. Just then, Logan stumbled through the trees, panting as he came to a halt besides her, dropping down to his knees. "'Ro.." he managed to utter, shaking his wet hair from his eyes. His gaze then followed hers downward, frowning as he too noticed the strange reflective surface below the sodden sludge. Storm began scooping at the mud, digging it away with her hands as she was overcome with a desire to sate her curiosity.

This same curiosity had latched upon Logan, whom after having seen Storm begin shifting the dirt, he joined in, scrabbling thick chunks of mud from the earth. They were progressing rapidly, uncovering shape and definitions to what only could be describe as a lump of metal lodged below the earth. Her fingers deftly worked around a now distinguishable handle, plucking the sludge from it until her hand could grip it. She slowly lifted her head to stare at Logan through strands of ivory, pants still racking her bruised chest. Logan leant over, his eyes locked on the handle as Storm tried it. It wouldn't budge.

Storm sat back against her knees, her eyes still transfixed on the door. The modern man-made design of it standing out so sharply against the wilderness of nature that surrounded it's form. The square slab of steel was slowly being cleaned of grime from the pattering rainfall, revealing detailed features of bolts and other firm fixtures. It was clear this was strong enough to withstand the direct impact of a bomb, nevermind two inquisitive castaways. "Do you think this is linked to those helicopters?" whispered Logan, as though he dare not raise their voice in the ominous door's presence.

"Possibly," Storm replied softly. "But it might gives us some answers, and more importantly, might give us the communication equipment we need."

Logan slowly nodded his head, his eyes still studying it. "You're right," he muttered, his hand tracing the cold, hard metal. "You ready if someone's down there?"

Storm lifted her head, blazing ivory eyes now glowing in the darkness. "As ready as I'll ever be," she whispered, the rain around them becoming harsher to disguise their sounds. At the woman's confirmation, Logan's hand curled into a fist and with the swift ejection of his claws into the bottom of handle, the lock under the door was sliced away. He grabbed hold of the handle, which now turned obligingly in his tight grip. He heaved it open with a grunt, the rainfall now descending into the vast dark chasm that disappeared inside. The rain was parted by the gentle move of Storm's hands to hide the fact the door had been opened.

Staring down into the darkness, Logan frowned, his head then lifting to watch the weather mutant. "You can't go down there," he said quietly. "You won't be able to do it."

Storm slowly lowered her glowing eyes to the narrow tunnel that disappeared below the ground. With her jaw set, she nodded her head, "I can do it."

Logan nodded his head once in reply. "Stay close to me," he whispered as he eased himself inside, finding the rungs of a ladder bolted to the concrete walls of the passageway. Once he had secured his footing, he began climbing downward. Storm carefully followed suit, taking in a deep, calming breath before she lowered with him, pursuing his descending form down into the dark chasm of concrete. They climbed down for a short while, the only sound being their shared pants of breath.

The silence was broken by the noticeable thump of Logan jumping from the last rung and hitting the floor. Darkness continued to surround them, he looked round to see Storm anxiously making her way down, and he carefully placed his hands at her waist to ease her off the lowest rung and onto the solid ground. Their panting breathes echoed about the darkness, the only light being the eerie glow of Storm's ivory eyes. Logan only managed to take a single step forward when the distinct sound of a cocking rifle cut through the silence.

* * *

Before Lost fans start spasming and forthing at the screen remember I'm a Lost fan too! No, I'm not copying Lost, it's just similar at the moment. But soon, everything is going to change. For the worst..


	8. The One With A Bunker

**Chapter 8**

The sound caused Logan's claws to instinctively release, the soft _'snikt'_ echoing about the murky cavern deep below the earth's surface. He could feel Storm just by his side, both of them having tensed up at the sound of the cocking gun. Logan squinted his eyes through the darkness, his increased senses soon adjusting him to the change in light, and he could make out the figure holding the weapon.

"Don't move," grunted a male voice from the gun wielder, and Logan narrowed his eyes as he saw the man's hand move to his radio. There was a quick, concerned glance from Storm before Logan leapt forward with a fresh guttural roar. The man's pursuit for the radio was soon forgotten as the gun was lifted to fire. Logan grabbed onto the gun, swinging the man round and up against the wall. The gun went off and Logan let out a strangled gasp as the gun fired into the side of his head. Storm was ready, as Logan plummeted to the floor, she spun round, palms extending. There was a static sizzle in the air before blinding white lighting crashed forth to hit the man squarely in the chest. His clothes blackened and skin burned raw; the man slumped downward, the gun clattering to the ground.

Storm quickly turned to see Logan popping the bullet out of his skull, his head giving a little shake as though to clear it. Stood before him, Storm offered him her hand. He housed his claws back into his knuckles, allowing the two mutants to grab each other's forearms and he was hoisted back into his feet. "I hope you're going to move that body," she said as she stepped backwards, catching his eye as she passed.

Logan subtly smirked to himself at this remark, stooping to pick up the radio off the man's belt and followed on after Storm as he held it in his palm. "Who d'you reckon this contacts?"

Storm glanced round at the radio he held, pulling it from his hand. "Don't attempt it," she warned with a shake of her head. "Whoever it reaches, it can't be good news." She looked back round, sighing to herself, "Isn't there a light switch anywhere?"

As if on cue the tube lights above her flickered on, and she peered round to see Logan stood by a metal handle, which he had pushed up. He flashed a casual smirk her way. Shaking her head to herself, Storm proceeded to walk forward, clasping the radio cautiously as she travelled. The light had revealed them to be in a narrow tunnel of sorts, the walls and flooring man-made. It was rather cool this low down under the surface, the walls of the tunnel glistening in condensation.

"Is there anyone else we're going to bump into?" Storm asked as she walked, glancing to Logan who followed behind her. The man gave her a silent shake of his head to alleviate her concerns, and the pair continued to advance down the walkway. They carefully rounded a corner, seeing a closed door ahead of them. "Where do you suppose that leads?" Storm murmured aloud, watching it cautiously from afar.

"Only one way to find out," muttered Logan, who began striding forwards towards the metal door. Reaching this, he fastened his large hands about the circular wheel on the centre of the metal, quickly running it through his grip to turn and unlock it. It was carefully pulled open, Logan watching as the room on the other side was exposed to him bit by bit.

Storm remained a short distance behind, admittedly hesitant. But as the door was fully opened, Logan stood straight, eyes transfixed on what had been revealed. "Logan?" Storm called uncertainly, moving towards him from the corner and advancing up behind him. She then saw the room for herself. It was an underground bunker, inside decorated for living accommodation. Artificial light spilt a warm glow over a kitchen counter, looking out over a small seating area, which had a stereo in the corner. Doors led off the concrete wall, as thick and as heavy as the one Logan had opened initially. "What on earth.. ?" she said softly, stepping round Logan and slowly entering the room. Her eyes gazed over the items presented to them slowly running her fingers over the smooth surface of the kitchen worktop. After being stranded on an island like they had, the sight of human comforts was strange, but deeply welcoming.

"It's some sort of quarters.." said Logan softly as he entered, frowning as he studied the layout before him. "A hatch.. a bunker." He turned opening one of the kitchen cupboards to see it stocked with plates and other such items. "Deep down where no one can find it."

"But who is it?" said Storm, turning from the kitchen counter. "Who is it flying those helicopters and overriding our signals. Who keeps trying to track us down?" She shook her head slowly to herself. "We keep getting all these little pieces of information.. and nothing," she sighed, straightening as she wandered a little further inside.

Logan glanced towards her, following on through the room. "It's some sort of station. That guy was here to monitor something, keep an eye on something.."

"And still, we don't know what," sighed Storm, flopping down to sit on one of the large leather couches, letting out a content sigh as her sore joints met the soft seating. "Oh.." she mumbled quietly, "Come here, sit down. It feels like so long since I had a comfortable chair." At Logan's reservations, she grabbed hold of his wrist and promptly tugged him down into the seat besides her.

He hit the leather with a grunt, but eventually sank down into a comfortable position with a relaxed sound. "Y'know," he said quietly, allowing his eyes to drift closed. "Findin' this has got to be the first bit of good luck we've had since we landed on this island. This place probably has food and hot water. We have heat and electricity, we're gonna last a damn sight longer here."

"Do you think we can stay down here?" Storm asked, turning on the couch to peer towards him. "Is it safe?"

"Well, the guy didn't manage to get his radio, so he contacted no one. For now, I think we'll be alright." Logan looked towards her with a gentle smile. "We'll also be able to take care of your injuries, there's gotta be some sort of medical stuff in here."

Storm gave him one of the biggest smiles he had seen since they arrived here. "If you're sure!" she hurriedly pushed herself up off the couch despite her injuries and limped on over to one of the metal doors. She took the wheel, turning and opening it.

Logan rested his arm up on the top of the leather couch, peering over his shoulder at her. "What you doin'?"

The door was eased open, Storm looking inside to inspect before back round at Logan. "I'm having a shower," she said as she backed inside. And with that, the door was closed.

* * *

I know people has been eagerly awaiting another chapter, and I'm sorry it took so long. I've had a busy holiday! It took an email of some wonderful compliments to get back stuck in after my small departure. So thank you very much, and I hope they enjoy this chapter! (You know who you are!) Please be so kind as to leave a review.


	9. The One With A Proper Meal

**Chapter 9**

The sounds of a running shower clunked through the bunker's pipes as Logan explored their new surroundings. It was fitted out for the presence of a few men, including a bedroom with three single beds, a medical room and a larder so full it made his stomach grumble. Logan had also come across a door he couldn't open, with a keyhole signifying just why. Admittedly curious, Logan backed away from it, deciding to leave it for another day seeing as he couldn't hear anything suspicious behind it. Trying another door, he opened it to find himself in a narrow artillery room. His eyes roamed over the rifles that filled the walls, pistols laid besides boxes of numerable bullets. He shut the door with a frown, his mind already working.

Whoever had been down here was here for a purpose, living here, judging by the accommodation, but also appeared to be guarding something. Hidden away, surrounded by amenities and weapons, whoever had been here, had been given a job to do. His attention was caught when he heard Storm exiting from the bathroom, dressed once more and absently drying her hair on a towel. Turning to face her, he gestured idly over his shoulder with a thumb. "Hey, I found a medical room if you wanna go and check your injuries out. Don't want them getting infected."

"Sounds like a good idea," agreed Storm, limping forward and depositing the damp towel down on the couch. Travelling barefooted, she followed Logan across the room as he led her to a room discovered earlier in his exploration. Moving inside, Storm peered around the room, eyes tracing the singular bed against the wall, whilst a desk sat nearby, shelves of assorted equipment flanking it. Advancing forward, Storm sat herself on the edge of the high bed, giving a faint wince as she put too much weight on her injured leg.

Coming by her side with a drawer of various items, Logan lowered it down onto the bed, then looking towards her. "I can't even keep up with how many times you've hurt yourself," he said, sending a small grin in jest.

Storm returned it, shaking her head, "Says the man with a healing factor." She lifted her nearest arm, eyes roaming the grazes and bruises, "They'll be fine, just leave those," she murmured, then lifting her leg. "This is the problem," she gingerly rolled the leg of her trousers up to her knee, exposing a large gash on the back of her calf. The shower had rinsed away most of the bloodstains to leave it looking less dire, but there was no doubt it was a nasty injury. "I'd just bandage it," instructed Storm with a nod of her head, shifting to lift her legs onto the bed itself and letting out another involuntary wince as her hand moved to hold her upper abdomen.

"And what's that?" Logan asked, advancing forward with a frown.

"I think I fractured my ribs when I fell," Storm muttered softly. "They'll heal in time."

Logan, who had been watching where her hand lay, slowly lifted his eyes towards her face, of which bore scratches and bruises from her tumble down the hillside. Despite it all, Storm was managing a smile for him. "Just your leg then?" he asked, canting his head.

"Just my leg," Storm confirmed. "And I can do it, don't worry. You go and have a shower, you need it," she added with a small smirk.

Logan sniffed the air humorously, wrinkling his nose and nodding in agreement. "I do," he replied. "Sure you'll be ok?"

"I'll be fine," said Storm, waving a hand dismissively as she began rummaging through the drawer to procure some bandages. She glanced up to see Logan retreating out of the door, already pulling his open shirt off of his shoulders and then lifting his arms to wrench his vest top off of his muscular torso. Storm leaned forward to watch him cross the main room to reach the bathroom; only just realising she had been observing him as he undressed. She cleared her throat with forced dignity, quickly looking back to the bandages in her hand and proceeding to carefully tend in the injury on her calf.

* * *

The sounds of metal against china echoed about the concrete walls as the mutant pair finished their first proper meal of that week. Both mentally and physically exhausted, they were undernourished and dehydrated with the climate change and gruelling treks. Being able to let a satisfying dinner fill their stomachs to nurse them into a long sleep was the most wonderful thing. "I think I forgot how to eat," mumbled Logan as he sank back in his chair cracking an eye open to see Storm gathering the cleared plates with a quiet clatter. He caught her smirk as she walked away from him, returning the items to the kitchen.

"It's been a week," she said in amusement.

"And a week's a long time to go without proper food," Logan replied defensively.

Storm returned to the table to take away their glasses, patting Logan on the shoulder as she passed. "I know, I know," she said soothingly, "You're a big guy. You need to eat for your muscles." Logan could practically taste the humorous sarcasm lacing the words.

His hand lifted to grab hers as she turned away, halting her motions and causing her to look back round in surprise. "Don't insult the muscles. They get upset," he replied with a lazy smirk, lolling his head backwards off the chair to peer up at her.

With a playful tut, Storm pulled her hand back once freed, shaking her head to herself as she travelled back into the kitchen. "Wow, do they have personalities too? Names?" But Logan wasn't paying attention now, and when Storm looked round she saw him crouched in front of the stereo and fiddling with it. "What are you - ?" she began, before her words were drowned out by an explosion of loud music that caused Logan to give a strangled yell and he quickly turned the volume down.

"Shit," he cursed, closing his eyes as his sensitive ears rang.

Blinking a little from the loud surprise, Storm peered over to him inquisitively. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," came the curt mutter as he turned the music up again but not to an offensive volume. He stood back and gave the stereo an appraising look as a rather quick beat throbbed out of the speakers. Despite the music not being his taste, it was good to hear music again, especially when he'd spent a week wondering if his life would ever regain normality again.

"Dance, then," said Storm with a wicked smirk as she proceeded to rinse the glasses in the sink. Her eyes didn't shift from him.

He threw her an affronted look. "I don't dance," he said abruptly, eyeing that smirk with apprehension. Stranded on an island or not, he didn't dance. Ever. Logan suddenly felt a spark of panic dart up his spine as Storm rounded the kitchen island and moved over to him. He had a desire to run. "I don't dance," he said again, as though she may have misheard him the first time.

But Storm continued up to him, her smirk still in place was she noticed a skitter of fear in his eyes. "Oh, Logan, it's not that bad!"

Just as she tried to take a hold of his hands, he got there first, clasping her wrists and promptly turning her from him and sitting himself down on the couch. "I don't dance," he repeated, "I watch others dance."

Protesting, Storm attempted to tug her wrists free from his, which were not moving thanks to his solid grip. When he did release her, she wobbled backwards a few steps, then fixating a small frown on him. It was soon replaced with that smirk once more, as Storm grabbed for his hands again and tried to tug him up off the couch in an annoying manner, like a child tried to drag their parent off to show them something exciting. Logan, who was quite simply impossible to budge just sat there with a lazy grin on his face as he watched the woman strain and grunt as she tried to yank him forcibly off the couch.

"Sit down," he muttered, tightening his fingers about her wrists once more, "Before you do yourself an injury," and he promptly tugged her towards him, almost off balance, and Storm, dropped down into the seat besides him with an undignified grunt.

She blinked at little at being pulled down so quickly, shaking her white strands from her eyes as she looked back towards him. "You're a bad man, Logan," she replied, casting him a small smile.

Logan chuckled at this, "I know I am, darlin'. I know I am."

"And because of that, you're going to help me wash up."

"Huh?"

"Come on!" Storm promptly stood to her feet once more, resuming tugging. "I'll wash, you dry." Logan grumbled under his breath, his eye catching Storm's as he stood to his feet. Following her through into the kitchen, he helped himself to a towel, stood besides her obediently as she set about filling up the kitchen bowl with hot water. Leaning casually against the counter, Logan's eyes studied the room as he waited for the first item. Soon enough, a wet plate was thrust in his direction, and he submissively took it, wiping it dry on a towel like this was something he was often subjected to. Though in truth, back at the mansion it was all high tech dishwashers that Logan wouldn't step an inch near. He didn't mind drying pots however, it was a shared task, so it was all fair. There was also something strangely soothing about standing and doing household tasks with a woman like Storm, when his life was normally forced to endure crazed nightmares and feverish bloodlust.

He was only just rubbing the prongs of a fork dry of its suds when a sharp sound caught his ears and he swiftly looked up. He wasn't the only one who had heard it, for Storm was quickly watching him over her shoulder with a bemused expression. "What was that?" she said softly, hands falling still, wrist deep in the bowl. Cautiously, Logan lowered the towel and fork, turning from the kitchen, through the open-plan of the seating area and stopping in the dimly lit corridor.

"From behind there.." he said softly, now stood watching the closed metal door he had been unable to access earlier.

Coming up behind him, drying her hands on the dishtowel, Storm spoke up just as quietly, as though someone could be listening to them. "What's in that room?"

"I don't know.. it's locked and I didn't want to break it down in case.." he hesitated, glancing towards Storm.

"In case you regret it," she finished in replied, giving a nod of understanding. If there was something in that room that needed to stay locked up, then they had no concerns about keeping the door firmly bolted. Looking back towards the door, Storm continued, "But that beep.. it sounds like there's some sort of machinery in there, something electronic."

"When you put it like that, it sounds harmless," Logan muttered, turning from the door and guiding Storm back into the kitchen, "But if it's locked up, it's locked up for a reason."

Reaching the sink once more, Storm wringed the towel uncertainly in her hands. "But, what if it's something important, machinery such as that might mean we're able to contact Cerebro."

"Look, I honestly think we should keep it locked up for now, at least until we know for sure no one knows of our presence down here. Opening that door could cause a hell of a lot of trouble that we might not be ready for," he indicated her leg, "You gotta get yourself better."

That wasn't the best thing to say, for Storm's eyes flared, not in their powers, but in defiance. As far as she was concerned, that was an insult. "I'm getting some sleep," she said stiffly, throwing the towel into his arms storming off to the sleeping quarters to leave a baffled Logan with the rest of the unwashed dishes.

* * *

What IS behind that door? Well, you can only find out by continuing to read, so send me a review, because that'll get the next chapter out! ;)


	10. The One With A Sleepless Night

**Chapter 10**

How on earth could he sleep through it? That was Storm's constant thought as she sat on the edge of the bed being slowly driven insane by the beeping from behind the locked door. Logan, on the other hand, just rolled over comfortably in his bed with a content grunt before sleeping on. Storm eventually assumed he had grown accustomed to the sound. With such sensitive hearing he probably always had to block out the harmless sounds of the environment to be able to get some sleep. Storm longed to be able to do the same, because the beeping had become horribly repetitive.

Exhaling a strained sigh, she stood up off the bed, trudging out of the room and going back to the corridor, where the beep sounded louder from behind the locked door. This, combined with her curiosity made her so desperate to open to door. She needed to find out what was inside and turn off the sound before she lost her mind. For now, she passed it warily, trudging into the kitchen with a tired drag of her feet. She was desperate to get a long night of sleep after everything that had happened to them on the island, but it seemed it was not to be.

Reaching the kitchen, she sleepily helped herself to a glass from the cupboard, turning to the sink and filling it with cool water. She had just been about to lift it out of the sink to drink when she dropped the glass with an overwhelmed gasp. She felt disgusted with herself. "What am I doing?" she whispered under her breath, staring down into the sink and at the now empty glass that lay forlornly on its side.

"What's up?" came a voice, and Storm quickly turned to see dishevelled, half-naked Logan wandering into the room, running a hand through his untamed bed hair. Storm exhaled a quiet sigh as she shook her head to herself. He could sleep through the beeping, but at the first unusual sound he was up and ready.

"This is wrong," she said weakly, gesturing about her. Logan yawned for a moment, but eyed her curiously, apparently not catching on. Storm, noticing this, gave an aggravated growl through clenched teeth. "All this!" she said heatedly, indicating the room again. "We're getting comfortable! Settling down! This isn't what we should be doing!"

Logan made a small noise of realisation, but realised that Storm was genuinely distressed by this. "Hey, hey, c'mon," he said reassuringly, stepping forward and resting his hands on her shoulders. "'Ro, listen to me, we ain't settlin' in, ok? We're just tryin' to survive."

Fists clenched, Storm continued, "Then we should be working our asses off trying to find a way off this island!" she exclaimed. "And we start by opening that door!" Her arm swung out to point fiercely at the corridor besides them.

Logan's head turned to the corridor she indicated, sighing quietly as he glanced back towards her. "And you really think that will help?"

"I don't know!" cried Storm, raising her voice so it reverberated around the concrete walls. "But I refuse to make a home out of this place. Our home is at the mansion!"

"I know.."

"And we need to get back there as soon as possible!"

"I know.."

It was easy to see that Storm was getting progressively overwhelmed and Logan slowly curled his arms about her and pulled her in against his chest. Storm didn't object, but instead allowed herself to be drawn in towards the larger mutant, closing her eyes as she let out an distraught sigh. "If the Professor was alive none of this would have happened," she said quietly, her face contorting a little as she felt tears prick at the recollection of Charles Xavier. "He would be able to use Cerebro and find us. Hell, in fact, we would have never have gone off course in the first place."

Logan tried his best to calm her, holding her tightly in his embrace as he heard her voice become tearful over the mention of their late Professor. He didn't want her to become upset, and carefully rested his hand against the back of her head in a bid to calm her tears. For a moment, Logan realised that a few weeks ago, he would have never have done this to anyone. Logan just wasn't a cuddling, comforting type of guy. But when stranded on an island, your life's philosophies became warped. "So you want that door open?"

"Yes."

"Even though we might regret it?"

"Yes," said Storm again, pulling her head back and looking up at him. "Because if we never do it, then it's clear we're just accepting our fate on the island. I don't know about you, but I'd rather die than never try to get home again."

Logan nodded his head meekly, aware her words held slightly different meanings due to his strong sustainability, but the ultimate significance was the same. "We'll do it in the morning."

"Oh no, we won't," said Storm quickly, causing Logan to frown at her. "I haven't been able to get a wink of sleep because of that beeping."

"We do it now?" asked Logan weakly, "At this time?"

"Now's a good a time as any," declared Storm, flicking her hair and placing a hand on her hip with an impressive nod.

Accepting defeat, Logan nodded his head, trudging off down the corridor with Storm in tow. It didn't take long for them to reach the large metal door, of which the repetitive beeping resounded out of impatiently. "There's no key," said Logan grumpily, of which merely earned him a sharp look from Storm. Logan rolled his eyes to the ceiling, muttered a faint profanity under his breath before he ejected his claws. He then stood in front of the door, attempting to hack through the lock down the tight seal. Storm hovered behind him, anxiously wringing her hands as the beeping continued to sound through.

Eventually Logan straightened, revealing a rough hole where his claws had cut and maimed the side of the thick metal door. Storm stopped her fretful pacing and stared at him apprehensively. "Is it open?"

To answer her question, Logan casually pushed his hand downward on the handle and the door slid open.

* * *

The door is open! But what's inside? Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	11. The One With New Hope

**Chapter 11**

The thick metal door slowly slid open, watched anxiously by Logan and Storm as the room beyond was revealed. The beeping grew louder now it didn't need to permeate through the steel. A whirring fan casting flickering light over the stone floor, walls as coarse and as bare as the entrance tunnel. A multitude of screens filled up the back wall, each one showing camera footage of a particular location on the island. A control panel made up most of the desk, with a lone keyboard sat in front of a worn leather chair. Storm advanced inside first, her eyes carefully taking in the room as she walked. "It's some sort of.. monitoring station," she said softly, coming upon the desk and lifting her head to study the various monitors.

Many of the various screens bore slightly flickering images of different areas of the jungle, overlooking uninhabited terrain. "Hey, look," muttered Logan as he came up besides her, pointing at one of the screens on the far right. The pair moved closer to inspect it. The camera was fixated on a clearing in the trees, of which a thick wall towered high, monstrous metal doors bolted shut to lock out the outside world. They exchanged a cautious expression, before Storm looked down at the computer. The beeping continued to resound.

Storm pulled out the chair and sat down, tapping the keyboard to activate the black screen before her. There was a list of coding, and as she read through it was an apparent message centre. "Should we look?"

"No harm in tryin'," Logan muttered as he moved closer, watching as Storm selected and opened the unread message.

'PANEL TO GOP-461. BOGEY NW RADIO DETECTION TRUE. BOONIES NOTIFICATION BREACH AT 33,91. DESIGNATED FEET DRY. GLORY HOLE BDU CONFIRMED. EE LOST AT 78, 204. IA.'

They stared at it blankly. "I have.. no idea what that means," murmured Storm as her eyes continued to re-read the sentence as though it might help. "Do you?"

Logan slowly crouched besides her, eyes transfixed on the message as he allowed the information to trickle in. "Some of it I can translate.. it's military language.."

"Is this bad news?" she asked weakly, looking down into his face.

"This is a delayed message." Logan extended his hand to the screen, pointing at the individual coding as he explained. "The first bit is who the message is from and who it's to. There's been an unidentified enemy aircraft found at some location, and I assume it's landed." He sat back, face contorting as he re-read the message. "Those are coordinates," he added, leaning forward to point out the numbers, ".. which is where the aircraft landed. I think that's us," he said softly, finger then moving to point out the 'BDU' abbreviation, ".. and that's the weapon that destroyed our jet. This is just a confirmation message that seems delayed. However, I don't really understand the rest of it.."

But Storm was still watching him as he leant on the desk besides her, crystalline blue eyes studying his features as he glanced about the computer screen. "How do you know all that?" she asked softly.

Logan shrugged slowly, "Alkali Lake was a military compound. I probably spent a lot of time there before .. " he drifted out, not looking at her as he kept his gaze fixated on the message he didn't need to read again.

"Are we safe?"

"For the time being," he replied quietly. "We ought to keep at eye on that message centre.. and that entrance," he looked up at the monitor showing the closed steel doors, "See if it ever opens.."

Storm's eyes roamed over the control panel before she noticed a headset and pulled it towards her in inspection. "This monitoring station should contact outside sources, yes?"

"Well, yeah. I assume it'd have powerful signals. It needs it." Logan turned his head to glance up at her.

"Would it contact the mansion?"

Logan sighed quietly, running a hand through his hair. "If there's one thing I know, it's that military contacts are not to be interpreted by outside force. It'd take a lot of work to get it to focus on the right signal for the school."

"Well, you're talking to the woman who wired the X-Jet," said Storm with a smile. "I could take a look at it anyway.."

"Don't take it offline, though," Logan warned softly as he watched her. "It'd alert the main office."

Storm nodded in head in slow understanding. "I won't," she confirmed in a quiet tone, continuing to watch him. "Thank you for opening the door, Logan.. it seems it may have given us a chance. I don't know what I'd do if I was stuck here on my own."

"You'd be fine," murmured Logan with a faint grin. "You're tough."

Storm laughed quietly as she glanced down at the headset she still held, fiddling with the deactivated microphone. "I've still had my fair share of bumps and bruises."

"So have I."

"Yours disappear instantly," Storm replied as she looked up at him, smirking somewhat. She indicated the bruise on her face that took up her temple and cheekbone in a dark blemish.

Logan's eyes roamed the injury before he chuckled. "Yours will eventually," he reasoned, resting both arms on the desk, one relaxed whilst the other settled on it's elbow to support his cheek with a fist. "Anyway, the worst injuries aren't physical."

There was a slight frown on Storm's face as she watched him, "No, I know," she murmured softly. "But even after everything in your past.. you're happy now, aren't you?"

"Now, this minute?" Logan quipped. "Stranded on a uncharted island manned by some extreme military that are out to get us? Oh, yeah, I'm happy." He was smirking up at her, eyes twinkling in teasing amusement.

Storm snorted quietly, playfully swatting at his propping arm so that it slipped from his face and caused his head to bob down at the loss of support. He laughed as he straightened himself after the light-hearted attack, continuing to balance on the balls of his feet besides her. "You know what I mean," she responded, smiling.

"I'm a lot happier than I used to be," Logan admitted quietly, expression turning solemn. His eyes studied the desk before him for a moment, voice becoming softer. "I'd show you the scars from all the times I tried to kill myself, but they faded away." Gradually, his eyes finally lifted back onto her face.

"Logan.." she said softly, fading out as she failed to finds the words she wanted to say. Her hand slowly outstretched to rest on his forearm, squeezing slowly in a bid to express something, anything. "I'm glad you failed."

His eyes lowered down to the dark skinned hand that rested over his bare arm, watching as her fingers constricted to offer reassurance. She wouldn't ever realise how much that action meant to him, to know that there were people in his world that cared. He knew that without the X-Men, he would have been left in a bad place, where suicide had been an almost daily contemplation. When he looked back up towards her face, he realised just how close they were. She did too, and neither of them was aware who made the first motion, but slowly and carefully the close proximity decreased till their lips met. Carefully executed, almost wary in it's endeavours, their kiss proceeded slowly, neither choosing to lead. Just as it began to get deeper and fall into the realms of where it could become unstoppable, Logan eased back, watching at her as if in contemplation

"Me too," he whispered quietly, giving her features one last glance over. He sighed a little, shaking his head to himself as he turned and exited to return to his bed to sleep. There was an uncertain air left hanging between them, and Storm turned back to the desk with a quiet groan, her head falling into her hands.

* * *

You may have noticed I played on the quote from X1 that got took out of the final script. The one about Logan's scars from his suicide attempts. I think it's a powerful line, and I wished it had been left it! But maybe they thought Logan was angsty enough. D: Anyway, they shared a little kiss! But things seem a little awkward now, as they always do when a friendship changes. Oh, and the military language, if it's not perfectly correct, sorry, I tried my hardest!


	12. The One With Apologies

**Chapter 12**

Storm's head shot up when she heard the scrape of metal behind her. Her neck ached terribly for she had fallen asleep at the desk last night. Lifting from her folded arms, she peered round slowly to see that Logan had slid open the large steel door and was entering with a hot mug of coffee. Awareness trickling in, Storm quickly sat upright, her eyes transfixed on Logan as he came closer. Reaching the desk, he placed the mug down in front of her, eyes then moving to study her dishevelled state.

"Logan.. I – " she began weakly, but he talked over her.

"Don't worry about it," came his response, and she knew he was talking about the same thing.

Leaning back in the desk chair, Storm slowly massaged her aching neck. "I just don't want it to put us in a bad position. We need to remain strong allies in such a dangerous situation."

"Storm, I said don't worry about it," Logan repeated, resting his rear down against the desk, folding his arms. "Everyone makes mistakes."

"I.. – " began Storm before she stopped suddenly, his words dawning on her. _A mistake?_ "Right," she concluded faintly, picking up her coffee and drinking it. Well, that had put her curiosity straight.

Logan glanced behind him slowly at the monitors, which lined the grimy wall. The screen hosting the flickering image of the great entrance hadn't changed. The doors remained closed. Storm's eyes too joined the observation, the pair watching it in silence for a few moments longer. "So, you gonna start workin' on this soon?" he asked, eventually looking back upon her, in time to see her eyes slowly slide upon his own.

"Erm, yeah," said Storm quietly, lifting a hand in a bid to straighten her slightly untidy hair. Eyes roamed the console for a moment. "I'll see what I can do today, anyway." At this point she stood up, intending to go and have a wash so she'd feel a little more refreshed. But Logan had also straightened off of the desk and they were abruptly face-to-face. "Sorry," she muttered quickly, stepping aside and hurriedly departing from the control room. There was a small frown on Logan's face as he watched her turn and retreat from his side.

* * *

It was later that week - when Storm was half asleep on the leather couch - did she get taken by surprise. "I'm sorry," came Logan's words, summoning her lidded eyes open and rousing her to give him a bemused look. He was stood in the archway separating the open-plan room from the corridor beyond. His arms were folded and he looked troubled.

Having just arrived with nothing but an apology, Logan had left Storm rather mystified, but nevertheless curious. "What for?" she asked, pulling her legs back towards her as she saw Logan walk further into the living room and towards the sofa. He sat down besides her with a heavy sigh, watching his knees. Curling her legs besides her, she cast him an appraising look, waiting for him to continue.

Logan gave her a slightly disgruntled look, for he was aware she was playing hard to get. "Teasin' don't suit you 'Ro," he muttered, shaking his head towards her.

But Storm merely shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said coyly, still not dropping the act.

Eyes were rolled to the ceiling before Logan spoke. "I'm tryin' to apologise, gimme some slack, woman."

"Ok, ok. Go on," said Storm, gesturing towards him with her hands. "You're saying sorry.. for?"

Logan grunted to himself. "For what happened earlier this week. Y'know.."

Storm didn't think this was a very adequate apology, despite not really needing one. "That was terrible," she informed with a disappointed shake of her head.

She was thrown an affronted look from Logan before he noticed her smirk and caught onto her continued games. "I'm sorry for kissing you like that, with no explanation. I didn't mean to, I just kinda got taken by surprise."

"And now you're taking the credit for it," teased Storm.

"What?" Logan asked as he blinked at her, thrown from his apology.

Storm shook her head slowly. "Just saying, you're assuming it was your idea."

"Why, was it yours?"

"I don't know, really," admitted Storm, shrugging her shoulders slowly. "Why, would it make you feel better if it was?"

Logan chuckled quietly, lifting a hand to scratch his neck in an awkward fashion. "I don't know.."

Storm watched him for a moment before she glanced aside. "Was it really a mistake?"

"Yeah," replied Logan, then peering towards her. "Wasn't it?"

"Of course," Storm responded, pushing to her feet and leaving the couch, carrying the empty glass she had back into the kitchen. Logan's scrutinising eyes followed her retreating form, still picking up on the slight limp she carried from her wounded leg. Despite her departing from him, he eased himself upright off the couch, then proceeding to follow after her.

"How's your leg these days?" he asked, finding it a comfortable subject change.

Lowering her glass to the draining board, Storm spoke without looking at him. "It's fine."

Logan didn't miss the tense atmosphere that had settled upon them. "What's wrong, 'Ro?" he asked with a sigh.

"Nothing."

He leant forward to take her by one of her arms, pulling her round to face him. "C'mon.."

Storm turned quickly, giving him a slight glare at being forced to confront him. "What?" she snapped abruptly.

"One minute I think everythin's alright, then the next you go all cold on me. What's the matter?"

"Why are you even bothered?" Storm challenged, trying to disengage her arm from his. His grip, though not tight, was unrelenting.

Logan accepted the challenge with a dignified response that caused her harsh expression to falter. "Because I care."

"No you don't," muttered Storm, trying to free her arm with renewed vigour.

He didn't release her. "Yes, I do," he said firmly. "I've been here, ain't I? We've been stuck on this place for a long time now, and I've always had your back."

"That's different. That's teamwork."

"Teamwork's got nothin' to do with how sick I felt when I thought I'd lost you."

Storm closed her eyes, proceeding to slowly shake her head. "Stop it, Logan."

"Stop what?"

"This act. This façade. It.. it doesn't suit you, ok? Go back to being the real Logan."

Logan took hold of both of her upper arms now, grip tightening, as though trying to prove to her he was there. "I _am_ the real Logan, 'Ro."

Pressed back against the kitchen worktop, and fenced in by the combination of muscular arms and a broad torso, Storm knew she wasn't going to escape this situation anytime soon. "You said it was a mistake," she said weakly, voice having grown quiet.

"We've both been through a lot of shit lately - the whole mess with Jean, Scott and the Professor dying, getting stranded on this island. Our heads and emotions are all over the place."

"And does that makes it so bad of me to want some comfort?" she asked, now staring up at him.

He shook his head, "No," he said softly. "No, it doesn't."

"So why are you reacting so badly?"

"Because I thought I had done something wrong," he explained quickly, yearning for her to understand his reasoning. "I thought I needed to clear up a mess before it screwed up our friendship."

Storm gave a soft snort. "There's no mess, Logan. The only mess right now is that we're stuck on some uncharted island."

"I know," Logan said quietly, lifting one of the hands from her upper arm to bring it against her cheek. "And you're right. It's just some comfort. 'Cause right now, we only got each other."

"I don't know why I'm doing this."

Logan made a weak laugh, "Yeah, a few months ago we barely spoke to each other. And now.."

".. And now?"

Despite her question, he leaned in slowly to close the distance between them. Soon enough, his lips met her own and once more it felt completely natural. These yearnings, these desires; he had no idea where they had spurned from. The time they spent together, which forced them to get along and to understand each other had progressed so much so, that right now, he felt at his most content like this.

And it seemed Storm felt the same, for as soon as their lips made contact, she pushed forward to complete the distance and soon enough they were picking up from where they had left off a few nights before. Tongues connected with an electrifying spark, of which could be all too literal. Kiss deepened with surprising comfort and speed. It was all too easy to let go of the troubles they currently had, the situation that lay before them on a treacherous road, whose end they couldn't see. Perhaps they were both looking for an outlet to vent all those pent up emotions that had been stewing inside. And now, said feelings had certainly reached boiling point.

A stainless steel pan crashed to the kitchen floor besides them, Storm suddenly finding herself sat on the worktop without realising how she had got there. Nevertheless, it meant Logan could move all the more closer to her, taking advantage of their increased proximity. Storm didn't part from their kiss, using her arms to drape them about his shoulders and pull him in tighter. This action summoned Logan's hands to move. The one at her arm slowly slid towards her back, supporting her posture. The fingers upon the other held against her jaw as he kissed her, allowing their tips to skim against the smooth skin of her throat.

It was ridiculously tempting to go further, and almost agonising for Storm to loosen her grip from the muscles of his neck and pull back from his lips. Both breathless and momentarily disorientated, they could only stare at each other. It would be so easy to close those few inches and continue. Too easy. "Maybe.." said Storm quietly, trailing her fingers down the coarse hair of his face, "I should show you what I've been doing in the control room."

"Is that an invitation?" Logan muttered lowly, nuzzling her cheek.

If Storm was in a bad mood, it would have earned him a hard slap. "No," she smirked. "I'm being serious. I've been working hard in there and we need to see if it's paid off."

"What, you think you can contact the mansion?" asked Logan, surprise apparent on his features. "So soon? It's only been a few days since we found the thing?"

"Yeah, and how many hours have I spent in there working?" reasoned Storm, smiling as she pushed forward and slipped back onto her feet. "Come on," she added, leading him off back towards the control room. He followed, looking intrigued but remaining a little bemused at how much she had accomplished in such a short space of time. She must be a lot better with electronics than he first realised.

They entered the control room, Storm making a beeline for the leather desk chair that sat before the range of monitors. She quickly began typing into the keyboard, doing things Logan could never and would never comprehend. He came up behind her, resting his hands on the back of the chair as he watched her work. Admittedly, his mind was drifting off onto more tasteless things thanks to their rather passionate moment.

"Look," she said, pointing at the screen before her to indicate that a radio signal was being sent.

"Where's that going to?"

"Westchester," Storm confirmed. "It's connected to the telephone lines."

"You mean, we're ringing the mansion?" asked Logan in disbelief.

Storm smiled slowly, unplugging the headphones to the sound of the dialling tone could be heard through the speakers. "Every time I did it before we lost the signal before we could get through. But with a bit of work, I think we can stay connected for a minute or so."

"That's enough time," agreed Logan quickly, nodding his head.

"_Hello?"_

Storm made such a loud cry of delight that the microphone crackled in protest and Logan's eye twitched. "Beast!" she practically yelled in the mouthpiece, her hands shaking.

"_Ororo?! Is that you?"_

"Oh my God, I'm so glad to hear your voice," she breathed, her eyes wide and sparkling.

"_Where are you?"_ asked Beast frantically. _"Moira said you never arrived in Scotland and all our attempts to contact the jet have been unsuccessful."_

Logan grabbed the microphone. "That's because it got blown up, furball."

"_Logan!"_ exclaimed Beast. _"Are you both safe?"_

"Kinda."

"_Where are you?"_

Logan glanced towards Storm as he spoke. "We don't really know.."

There was no response.

Concerned, Storm turned the mouthpiece towards her. "Hank?" she called, fears confirmed as the speakers let out a faint crackle of a lost signal. "It got cut," she said in aghast.

"Cut?" repeated Logan, staring at her. "But that means someone found it.." he drifted off, sensitive ears picking up a faint footstep from the corridor. "Oh, shit."

* * *

Ohnoez! What's going on? Some ROLO angst smoothed with a bit of fluff. Fun all round! And the mansion got contacted, but it seems like all might be too late. Please drop a review!


	13. The One With A Capture

**Chapter 13**

"What is it?" asked Storm, rising to her feet out of the desk chair. She could see evident concern etched into Logan's face as he stood listening intently. His eyes were glancing about as though he was trying to work something out.

Then, suddenly, he turned towards her. "We gotta get out of here. Fight if you must, but we need to clear the hatch. If we get separated, run for the beach and don't look back."

"You haven't even told me what's wrong!" Storm exclaimed, staring at him.

Logan turned his eyes upon the currently closed steel door. "No time. C'mon!" He grabbed her by the wrist to pull her after him, quickly making a run for the door and wrenching it open. Sprinting out a few feet, he abruptly staggered to a halt, seeing armed soldiers advancing cautiously from the main corridor. He turned on his heel, pulling Storm with him, the woman uttering a gasp of surprise as she was wrenched round. The sound summoned the attention of the soldiers, whom immediately raised their weapons at their targets, of whom were slipping around the corner and out of sight.

"Is there another way out of here?" asked Storm as she ran full pelt down the dimly lit corridor, the pair's footfalls echoing around the coarse stonewalls. Emergency lights flickered weakly behind their caged covers, dotted every so often to cast a murky glow over the green-tinted corridor. Puddles rippled the hard floor, gathered from the sparkling condensation on the wall.

Logan kept up his pace without any hesitations. Behind them, the soldiers breached the corridor and were swiftly chasing after them. There was a mute nod from Logan as he hurtled round a corner, Storm belatedly turning at the direction change and streaming on after him. Pain was now searing through her calf, and her chest felt like it was fit to burst with the heaving pants against her fractured ribs. But this did not dampen Storm's determination. Jaw set, she threw her legs onward, boot soles pounding heavily through the dirty puddles as she followed Logan.

There was a door up ahead, their exit. Though in terms in powers they far exceeded their pursuers, they were severely outnumbered. Logan reached the large door first, wrenching the wheel in the centre and heaving it open. A slither of sunlight filtered through as the crack was formed, progressively growing bigger. The two mutants slipped through, momentarily blinded by the sunlight as they stepped out into a small clearing. With no time to hold back and shut the door, they continued to flee, keeping up a swift pace. Logan continuing to lead, he leapt into the leafy undergrowth, sprinting on through the trees to successfully delve into the cooler shadows of the jungle.

Large, expansive ferns were brushed aside as the two mutants tore on through the jungle. Determined to put distance between them and their pursuers, they were unrelenting in their travels. They would only stop when convinced they were safe. As Logan leapt over a mossy, decomposed log, his eyes caught a glimpse through the trees. Nose inspected the leafy scents of the humid jungle. It was then he realised, they didn't only have the group from the bunker chasing them. Other units had been situated at all exit points, waiting, ready.

There was a click of a taut trigger and Logan raised his fist in time to deflect the flying shot against the back of his claws. Whatever it was, smashed. It became clear that those guns did not house bullets. Storm quickly changed direction to avoid the soldiers situated in the bushes, running away from their location and following Logan off into deeper territory. Their gaze met for an instant, sharing mixed emotions of anger, fear and fiery determination.

Exchange was cut short as another shot fired, hitting Storm in the thigh. She staggered as the needle pierced firmly through her jeans, the long point delving into her flesh. Her hand shot out to grab Logan by the arm, and he quickly turned to support her. Pulling the needle out of her leg, she tried her best to keep running; despite the obvious limp she now sported. Logan gripped her tightly to keep her upright, their speed now greatly declined.

Logan let out a grunt as a needle shot into the side of his neck, causing his grip to loosen on Storm. She only managed to stumble a few steps forward by her own support before her legs weakened and she slumped to the ground further ahead. Logan tore the needle out of his skin as quick as he could, turning and running towards where Storm had fallen. Gathering her up in his arms, he continued to run through the jungle, slightly slowed by the additional weight he had to carefully carry. Her consciousness was barely there as her head hung, eyes glazed behind drooping eyelids.

Holding her to his chest, Logan tore through the undergrowth, ignoring the slashes of sharp leaves as they cut into his face. He staggered as several needles launched into him at once. With no time to set Storm down and pull them out, he kept running, praying his mutation could fight against whatever toxin they contained. Another struck, then another, and another. Logan could feel himself weakening, despite his valiant attempts to continue running. Another was fired, hitting him in his arm. He groaned quietly, his footfalls fumbling and he collapsed forward. Storm flew from his arms and hit the dirt further ahead, soon joined as Logan plummeted to the ground. Blackness swirled in on all sides, encircling his vision till it diminished to emptiness.

* * *

When Logan next woke, he was aware he was moving. Little strength made it hard for him to lift his head, but he needed to gather his surroundings, it was instinct. He was being dragged through the jungle, with firm hands on each arm. He made quiet grunt, feeling his lifeless legs being pulled over the forest floor. Peering to one side, he saw a still unconscious Storm being pulled along also. No doubt, despite the extra dosages, his healing factor had battled the toxins to bring him conscious. He had no energy to fight with, however. He could barely move his head, of which felt heavily disorientated. His eyes strained to see ahead, now noticing a large grey wall towering up from the foliage. Great, thick doors sealed out the rest of the world. It was the same entrance he saw on the security monitors back in the bunker. The closer he was brought; he was able to distinguish writing stamped across the doors. 'ISLAND OF GENOSHA'

It triggered no recollection in his mind. Glancing across to Storm, he noticed that she was groggily reawakening. But she too had no strength to move, and could only continue to be dragged towards the large doors, which were now parting. As Logan watched, he saw light beaming through, the sun's rays becoming unblocked by the tall unwelcoming entrance. The soldiers led them forward and through the doors, leaving the packed earth of the jungle to step onto a smooth brick-laid pathway. Logan peered around in evident surprise. The cold imposing entrance was severely misleading to the vision that was inside. A lush, vibrant city spread out before him, an apparent Utopia. The path directed ahead, flanked by trees, leading to the numerous high-rise apartments that looked over an square of shops and cafes. It was completely bizarre. All the time Logan and Storm had spent in the harsh jungle, and there were people living here, like it was any normal city. His inspection of Genosha didn't last long, for a large figure stepped before him.

Form was tall and imposing, uniformed in a smart Nehru-style jacket. Other matching, black-coated figures began flanking him. "We'll take them from here," came a voice, and Logan felt himself being roughly handed over. "Close the gates and return to your stations."

"Yes, sir," said one of the soldiers, and Logan heard their retreating footsteps. Behind him the large doors ground closed once more. He felt himself being moved off to a nearby door in the wall, taken away from the sun-bathed courtyard at the entrance to Genosha, where it's citizens sat enjoying the day. Instead, Logan and Storm were brought down a dark corridor, carried up a steep slope of steps. Logan groaned softly, trying to pick his feet upright. Wherever they were going, it could only be bad news.

But he was easily tugged onward, and his feet slumped once more. He looked over towards Storm, she looked as confused and as disorientated as he did. A set of double doors awaited them further ahead, where two uniformed men stepped forward and quickly cuffed the drowsy mutant pair. The doors parted slowly, and they were led into a large office-like room. Tall glass windows looked out over the Genoshan city, backing a lone man sat at a desk.

As Logan and Storm were brought forward, he leant upon his desk, face currently in shadow. "Welcome to Genosha, mutants."

* * *

And so it has been revealed just what this island really is! Did any comic fans guess it was Genosha? For those who don't know, look it up on Wikipedia! Please drop a review!


	14. The One With The Employer

**Chapter 14**

Carefully, Storm attempted to adjust her footing, injured calf causing her severe pain after being dragged bodily through the jungle. The imposing figures that held her tightened their grip. Her eyes narrowed slowly, continuing to watch the man sat at the desk. She glanced over to Logan, meeting his gaze momentarily before they both looked ahead once more.

"Genosha?" she said softly, continuing to watch him. "I've never heard of it." Storm normally never doubted her geographical knowledge.

The man smiled thinly. "I'm unsurprised. No one outside Genosha knows of its existence." He studied them both slowly, eyes lingering over their features in a satisfying manner. "I noticed your arrival to Genosha a few weeks ago, and since then we have been working to capture you. But.. you had a nasty habit of just.. _slipping_ through our fingers." His smile spread, cold and humourless. "I suppose I ought to introduce myself. Don't like to be accused of having no manners," he chuckled falsely. "I'm Cameron Hodge, what one would call the boss of this business." He leant back in his seat slowly, calculating expression crossing his face. "Because, that's how the world works these days. It's all about money, investment, _power_.."

Logan grunted quietly as he pulled on his bound wrists, but the people behind him tightened their hold on his form. His head still felt faintly fuzzy.

"This is a county," whispered Storm quietly. "This is land, not an office."

"Oh, dear me, girl," said Hodge patronisingly, resting forth on his forearms. "Do you not notice what makes every country run? What the most powerful countries have stacks of? Every country is an office; every single one is a business empire. It's all about money and control." His head tilted slowly, smiling as he watched the pair on their knees. "And you know what every thriving business needs?" He stood to his feet now, walking slowly round his desk and approaching the pair. "It needs workers. Employees. Those who do the dirty work to bring in the money for people like me."

There was a flinch from Storm, as though she was battling with the impulse to leap up and attack. The silent figure besides her was taking no chances and roughly grabbed her by her short ivory locks, pulling her head back and causing Storm to let out strained grunts.

"Oh, the infamous X-Men," sighed Hodge dramatically; shaking his head like it was a pantomime performance. "Your numbers are decreasing rapidly, aren't they? Three dead in less than a week – your leader included. And now.. two here, sat before me. One by one you're vanishing.. it seems the X-Men is pretty much ceasing to exist!"

"What do you want from us?" hissed Storm, her head still sharply held back.

Hodge turned his eyes upon her slowly. "I told you. You're going to work for me, just like every other piece of mutant scum that exists within the walls of Genosha." He began to turn from her, but hesitated for a moment to speak. "But, don't you be getting any ideas about escaping. We don't allow anyone to leave Genosha. Ever. Or mark my words; the Magistrates will drag you back. Or kill you. Whichever is easiest." Back was presented to the pair as he made to return to his desk.

Storm made an enraged cry as she threw herself forward. She soon enough discovered that a power inhibitor prevented any exercise of powers, and instead she proceeded to launch into a tirade of useless kicks. Arms struggled in the strong grips of the Magistrates, whom quickly moved to subdue her fiery actions. Logan, whom still hadn't spoken, watched her silently, eyes returning back to Hodge. Instinct told him to stay quiet and to not draw attention to himself. It was how to survive in the long run. That's how he survived Alkali Lake. Present yourself as a problem, and they will soon wish to eradicate said problem.

Storm, who was still pugnaciously writhing inside the Magistrates' grip, received a harsh blow to the top of her head, of which caused her to almost instantly slump.

Hodge had apparently finished talking to them, and had no desire to fill them in with anymore details about their future in Genosha. With one glance at Storm, he waved off the Magistrates, who swiftly turned and bodily dragged Storm and Logan across the smooth flooring.

* * *

A dim grey ceiling slowly became clearer above Storm. Her head throbbed repetitively, the earlier discomfort of the sedative combining painfully with the recent strike. With a quiet groan, she pushed herself off of her back, finding freed wrists able to part and shakily support her positioning. She rubbed her head slowly, peering around the change of scenery. A dull setting of concrete and metal surrounded her new accommodation – a small, cell-like room with an uncomfortable looking bed against the back wall. A tall barred door looked out onto a narrow walkway, across which sat other, inhabited cells. The walls that flanked her were half grimy concrete, with metal bars completing the remainder to the ceiling.

She shakily stood, having to grip upon the cell door in which she had been slumped against. Turning, she glanced out into the corridor. The figure in the cell opposite hers was on the bed, not moving. Storm quickly glanced back into her own cell, looking through the bars that divided her from her neighbours. On one side, was Logan. She quickly ran over, grabbing onto the metal bars as she stared through. "Logan!"

At her call, he immediately stood up. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly, coming to the bars and watching her with concern.

"I'm fine," she replied, nodding her head. "What happened?"

Logan shrugged his shoulders slowly. "After they knocked you out we just got brought down here and locked up. They left soon after that."

"How long have I been out?"

"About twenty minutes," came another voice.

Storm looked over her shoulder to find a figure watching them from the cell next to hers. She was sat on her bed, leaning leisurely against the flaking stone wall and watching them both with small interest. There was no doubt she was a mutant, for her skin had a slight violet tint, as did her dark hair. Through the dim lighting in the underground chamber, vivid green eyes held a distinct glow.

Sharing a glance with Logan, Storm turned to survey this other mutant cautiously. "Who are you?"

The female introduced herself with a nod. "I'm Blink. Or 419," she added dryly.

Storm indicated themselves in turn. "I'm Storm, and this is Wolverine."

"So, how did you get in here? I didn't think the Magistrates had gone recruiting today."

"We had to land our aircraft here a few weeks ago. Since then we've been pursued." Blink made an interested noise in response. "What is this place?" Storm then added, frowning. "I know.. I know its Genosha. But, what is it? Where are we?"

"Well, nobody knows for sure where this place is," explained Blink as her pupil-less eyes studied Logan and Storm in turn. "But we've made the assumption it's not too far off the east coast of Africa." Her head turned to look out of her cell door for a moment before her attention returned to the new arrivals. "And you're here to work. Well, they call it work, but we're pretty much slaves."

Storm's eyes narrowed. "Slaves? In this day and age? It's illegal, how come other countries are allowing this to happen?"

"They don't _know_ do they!" said Blink, gesturing her hands towards Storm. "Nobody knows of Genosha except for those who are already there. The minute you set foot on this land you became property of Genosha. I mean, yeah, up on the surface it looks pretty. Nice houses, little cafes and restaurants. But that's all for the high and fancy humans. If you're a mutant and you're in Genosha.. " Blink let out a hollow little laugh, ".. then you're sent down here. Our powers are used in whichever way is profitable to Genosha."

Logan leaned against the bars separating him and Storm, peering on through towards Blink. "But our powers are currently disabled, aren't they?"

Blink nodded, "Yeah. They're only allowed on when you're working, and even then, you'd be foolish to step out of line. The Magistrates will punish you." She leant back against the wall slowly, glancing out of her cell again, "See that guy over there?" she asked, pointing to the cell that situated across from Storm's. The figure remained unmoving in the bed. "He's a Mutate." Catching Storm and Logan's bemused expressions, she proceeded to explain. "They split us into Mutants and Mutates. Mutants are people like you and I. We were born in our home countries and our powers developed naturally with the genes we possess. Mutates are born within Genosha, and if you're born with the X-Gene in Genosha you get taken away from the humans and put through a scientific process that strips you of your free will. They have no personality, no soul. They're just.. alive."

Eyes transfixed on the unmoving man, it took a lot of effort for Storm to drag her gaze back upon Blink. Logan was watching the floor in an uncomfortable silence. It reminded him heavily of the Weapon X process. "Look, we need to get out of here," said Storm quickly, a nervous tremor having overtaken her tone.

Blink stared at her, "You haven't listened to a word I said, have you? You belong to Genosha now. You're property of the state. The Magistrates will only capture you if you escape."

Storm threw her a dark look. "Well, forgive me for not accepting my fate just yet. But I have a school to run and the X-Men to manage. I've been away long enough and I intend to be back in New York as soon as possible.

"X-Men, huh?" said Blink, giving Storm an appraising look. "Didn't think I'd ever see one of you in Genosha, at least, not behind bars. You guys are some of these mutants' only lifelines. They all hope that one day the X-Men will come and deliver freedom to Genosha."

"You have hope," said Storm quietly, "You all have hope."

Logan grunted quietly, having sunk down to sit on his bed, "It's false hope," he grumbled.

Slowly, Storm glanced over her shoulder at him. "It's better than having no hope at all."

* * *

It sounds like a pretty grim situation! Also, I tried to include as many comic influences as possible while keeping it realistic for movie-verse. I included a movie-verse Blink (skin and hair not as offensively purple,) since she was the mutant the X-Men were sent to rescue from Genosha in X-Men Legends 2.


End file.
